


"Olympian Efforts" with "Out of Action"

by CyberMum, jamelia116, Penny_P, Rocky_T, Voyager_Virtual Season_7-5_Staff_Writers (jamelia116)



Series: Voyager Virtual Season 7.5 [24]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, First Contact
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-24 03:43:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20351827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyberMum/pseuds/CyberMum, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamelia116/pseuds/jamelia116, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penny_P/pseuds/Penny_P, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rocky_T/pseuds/Rocky_T, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamelia116/pseuds/Voyager_Virtual%20Season_7-5_Staff_Writers
Summary: "Out of Action," a Voyager Olympics prelude by Rocky: Practicing for the Voyager Olympics can be arduous."Olympian Efforts" by Penny and CyberMum: The Games finally begin, although some members of the crew participate in a different event than anticipated.





	1. Prelude: "Out of Action"

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer: ** Paramount and Viacom/CBS own the rights to the entire Star Trek franchise. We do not claim ownership of anything they possess. We borrow the characters, the ships, and the technobabble to take them in places the production team never took them to when Star Trek: Voyager was on the air. We hope our readers appreciate this alternate universe of ours as Voyager wends its way homeward on a different path than "Endgame" did.

**OUT OF ACTION**  
by Rocky

The EMH had just settled himself into the chair in his office, PADD in hand, with the prospect of some uninterrupted leisure time giving him a decidedly pleasant anticipatory tingle. Lieutenant Torres might caution that this was an indication his algorithms were due for another Level 1 diagnostic; the Doctor (however much he might deplore such behavior in his own patients) had no qualms about deciding on his own that he was perfectly fine and that such feelings were entirely normal.  
  
"Cross-Gender Transformation and Pseudo-Chimeric Behavior in the Reproductive Cycle of the Moldabian Slime Sprog." He sighed in delight. Dr. Zimmerman had sent him the latest copy of the Journal of Xenobiology in the most recent data stream. It was a commentary on how busy he had been that only now, three days later, did he have the chance to sit down and savor the articles contained within. The Doctor cast another satisfied glance at the empty Sickbay and then began to read, his mind's eye seeing a different title and author name superimposed upon the PADD.  
  
His reading was all too soon interrupted when the door to Sickbay opened. He didn't move. Maybe whoever it was would just go away…  
  
"Doctor…" It came out as a moan.  
  
Inwardly the EMH cursed the timing. Just when he was getting to the good parts! "I'll be with you in just a moment, Mr. Neelix," he replied, not taking his eyes off the PADD.  
  
"Doctor!" The Talaxian's voice rose in intensity.  
  
"Oh, all right," the Doctor said testily and tossed his journal aside. Rising to his feet, he came around the corner of the office and into the main section of Sickbay. "What seems to be the--Great Galaxy, Mr. Neelix, what happened to _you_?"  
  
Neelix's face was creased into an expression of profound suffering. He was hunched over in a posture resembling that of a Klingon targ, one hand pressed to his lower back. "I seem to have strained something," he mumbled.  
  
"Well, that's obvious," the Doctor retorted. "Hop up on a biobed--never mind," he added hastily. "Just hold still." He ran a diagnostic wand over the patient. "Sprain of the fourth erector spinae muscle, 0.5 cm tear to the left latisimus dorsi, severe bruising of the--Mr. Neelix, how did you incur these injuries?"  
  
"I was on the Holodeck."  
  
"Doing what? And why weren't the safeties on?"  
  
"They were." Neelix gingerly lifted his hand up and brushed down the sides of his whiskers. "I was preparing for the _Voyager_ Olympics competition."  
  
"Doing what?" repeated the Doctor. He picked up a hypospray. "I'm giving you a combination antispasmodic and analgesic. After the swelling goes down a bit, I'll be able to use the regenerator."  
  
"Weight-lifting."  
  
"Weight-lifting?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"How much weight?" asked the Doctor curiously.  
  
"Oh, not too much."  
  
"Really," the Doctor said, an edge in his voice.  
  
"Fifty kilograms." Neelix added, "To start out."  
  
The Doctor stopped what he was doing. "Mr. Neelix, have you ever lifted weights before?"  
  
"No…except for storage cylinders in the cargo bay," he said. "But based on my 'dense musculature being suited for heavy lifting', as Seven once put it, I thought it wouldn't be too difficult."  
  
"Seven was talking about Talaxians assimilated into the Collective. They had Borg implants, not to mention nanoprobes to repair any damage incurred," the Doctor scolded. "Did it ever occur to you to begin with smaller amounts of weights?"  
  
"But Doctor," protested Neelix. "I was looking through the computer records of the Olympics on Earth. In the late twentieth century, there was a weight lifter they called 'the pocket Hercules'! He was so small, and yet he was able to lift---"  
  
What the athlete from 400 years ago had been able to accomplish would have to continue to remain a mystery, as the door to Sickbay opened again. In limped Harry Kim, dressed in exercise shorts and a T shirt, and cradling his right arm. "Doctor--"  
  
"And what happened to you, Mr. Kim?" asked the Doctor, his medical tricorder at the ready. He frowned when he saw the readings. "Another sports injury?"  
  
"Parisees Squares," Kim said. "I must have pivoted too sharply and cracked my elbow against the wall--"  
  
The Doctor waved his words away. "Climb onto a diagnostic bed--if you're capable--and I'll be with you shortly, as soon as I'm done attending to Mr. Neelix." The door to Sickbay opened again. "Ah, Mr. Paris, so good of you to stop by. As you can see, I'm quite busy here, so if you could take--"  
  
"Doc," interrupted Paris. "I didn't come by to help."  
  
"Then what--" The Doctor realized that the pilot's face was also contorted in pain and he was favoring his left leg. "Oh, no, not you, too?"  
  
Paris nodded, then winced at the sudden movement and smiled weakly. "You know what they say, Doc, 'no pain, no gain.'"  
  
The Doctor bit back an exasperated sigh. This was not at all how he had envisioned his afternoon shaping up. "All right, listen to me, all of you. Athletic competitions are all fine and good, but certain basic safety precautions must be observed. For starters, warming up properly and doing adequate stretching. For another, not pushing the body past its natural limits. Do I make myself clear?" He went to pick up some more hyposprays. "What's next?" he muttered to himself. "Perhaps Commander Tuvok will come in complaining of heat exhaustion, or Lieutenant Torres will come down with a bad case of swimmer's ear..."  
  
The door to Sickbay opened again. The Doctor froze, almost afraid to look. Chiding himself for his foolishness, he turned around. And gaped.  
  
Captain Janeway, dressed in sweats, was leading in an obviously suffering Commander Chakotay, whose hands were clamped firmly over his face. "Doctor, could we have some assistance over here?" she called. It was only then that Janeway noticed the other occupants of Sickbay. "What happened to all of you?"  
  
The Doctor attempted to remove the first officer's hands from his face so he could get a better look. "Commander?"  
  
Chakotay's hands fell away. And the Doctor gaped once more. The Commander's nose was streaming blood and a large bruise was rapidly forming around his eye.  
  
"She hit be in by dose."  
  
"The captain hit you?"  
  
Janeway nodded, obviously distraught. "We were trying out one of the new hand-to-hand combat routines." She added, defensively, "I thought with the Commander's boxing prowess that he'd be able to defend against a simple left hook."  
  
"Seems to me like you landed more than one blow, Captain," the EMH observed as he went to work. "He's got a dislocated jaw as well."  
  
"I'm _so_ sorry, Chakotay--"  
  
"It's all right. Just stop abologizing already," the commander mumbled.  
  
The Doctor rapidly finished treating Chakotay, then turned back and dealt with the rest of his patients. Within fifteen minutes all of their injuries, large and small, had been healed. As the officers turned to go, however, the EMH called out, "Not so fast!"  
  
"Excuse me, Doctor?" asked the captain.  
  
"Due to the severity of the injuries most of you have sustained, I'm afraid I can't permit you to go back on duty right away." He held up a hand to forestall their objections. "I'm sorry, chief medical officer's prerogative."  
  
"You mean--" began Paris.  
  
"That's right," finished the Doctor. "You're all out of action, till further notice."

Now, on to the long-awaited "Olympian Efforts"


	2. Prologue

  
**Prologue**  
  
_Captain's Log, Stardate 55546.03. We have just returned to normal space after our latest successful slipstream attempt, and thankfully, the last few jumps have been uneventful. I am relieved that we have put 4,000 light years between us and the warring factions of the Soman. Even better news, Ensign Delaney from Astrometrics confirms that we have put the Delta Quadrant behind us: we are now in the Beta Quadrant, only 8,000 light years from home._  
  
_This region of space seems to be unusually dense. It will take at least a week to determine the safest route for our next slipstream voyage. Things are going to be slow for a while, and since hearing that we are officially out of the Delta Quadrant, everyone is in a celebratory mood. So I've decided to authorize the long-delayed Olympics planned by Mr. Neelix and Lt. Paris. After all the good work of recent weeks, the crew deserves a diversion._  
  
*****  
  
"Ow...ch."  
  
The exclamation was somewhat muffled and obviously involuntary. Kathryn Janeway made no effort to hide her amusement as she watched her first officer lower himself gingerly into the chair on the other side of her desk. She placed the PADD she had been studying on top of a pile she was sure had multiplied tenfold over the course of the day and settled back in her chair.  
  
"It's not funny, Kathryn," Chakotay said with a grimace.  
  
"I'm not laughing, Chakotay." She tried valiantly to straighten out her grin and look sympathetic. It was a noble but unsuccessful effort. The subject of her amusement did not look happy at all.  
  
"So I shouldn't ask how the training session went?" she asked him and was rewarded with a glare that almost equaled one of her own.  
  
"Why I let you talk me into participating in the decathlon of all things, I'll never know."  
  
"Why I...? Because we decided that boxing should not be part of these Olympics and because you assured me, and Tom and Neelix for that matter, that you are in -- what was it you said? Oh yes -- you are in great shape and looking forward to the challenge of the sport."  
  
"I said..."  
  
"And," she cut him off before he could continue, "you told me you would do the decathlon if I did the fifteen hundred meter freestyle swim."  
  
"I..."  
  
She waggled a finger at him. "Never dare me, Chakotay."  
  
"I just wanted to see you in a bathing suit."  
  
Janeway snorted with laughter, and Chakotay had the grace to look sheepish.  
  
"So?" she asked after a moment. "Was it worth it?"  
  
This time it was Chakotay who guffawed. "Every moment." He replied without hesitation. "However," he continued, and she raised an eyebrow in anticipation. He shifted carefully in his seat. "I'm not sure how much more of this I can take. Trust me, at my age, the pole vault and the high jump are major mistakes. Is there any way I can change sports, Captain? Archery? Bridge?"  
  
"Bridge?"  
  
"It was introduced as an official Olympic sport during the 2006 Athens Olympics, Kathryn. I've done a bit of research."  
  
"I didn't know you played bridge. And no, you may not change sports, Commander." She grinned at him. "You're committed."  
  
"I played with my mother and my aunts when I was small. They taught me in desperation. I was a reluctant fourth when they were short a player." He paused for a moment, as if in deep thought. "I don't suppose you need a volunteer for bridge duty for the next few days? I mean _Voyager's_ bridge, not..."  
  
"I know exactly what you mean, Chakotay, and the answer is still no. We're more than adequately covered. You made up the duty roster yourself."  
  
"Well," he sighed dramatically. "It was worth a try."  
  
"And a very good try it was, Commander." She shuffled through the pile of PADDs as she spoke and pulled one out. "Speaking of duty rosters, I need you to go through this list of shift assignments in Engineering. B'Elanna was concerned about a couple of the timing issues. She's worried about inadequate coverage during changeovers."  
  
Chakotay took the proffered PADD and studied it for a moment. "She's right," he said. "There are a couple of gaps during the Gamma switch. I think a few of her crew have done some shift trading since I wrote up the roster. I'll rearrange the schedules and see if I can keep everyone happy."  
  
"Thanks." She extracted another PADD from the pile. “And it also looks like we may have an issue with our benamite supplies.”   
  
“Oh? What’s happened?”  
  
“Apparently one of the storage containers was damaged when we emerged from the slipstream this time. It wasn’t much more than a microfracture, but it was enough for some UV radiation to penetrate.” She gave him a lopsided smile. “It’s now a container of inert black powder.”   
  
He looked concerned. “How much did we lose?”   
  
“Not that much,” she said, “but enough that we’ve lost our cushion. I don’t want to run out with just one jump left to get home.”   
  
“I’ll ask Astrometrics to maintain long range scanning for kolander ore while we’re in warp,” he said, and stood to leave. “If we’re lucky, they will find some.”   
  
“Wait a moment,” she said, stopping him before he walked away. “There’s something else I think you might want to see." She activated the PADD. "Halfway down."  
  
He reached out for the device, grimacing slightly as he stretched. Janeway didn't say a word, but her eyes twinkled. Chakotay grinned reluctantly in return and then turned his attention to the business at hand. He read for a moment and then dropped the PADD back onto her desk.  
  
"They're betting against me," he said, obviously offended.  
  
"Not really. Have a look at the odds. They seem to have a lot of confidence in you. I have every confidence in you." She smiled serenely. "As a matter of fact, I might just place a bet myself..."  
  
_"Kim to the Captain."_ Janeway's communicator badge crackled slightly as she tapped it to reply.  
  
"I'm here Harry. Report."  
  
_"We are approaching a class six nebula, Captain. It's extremely dense, and I've requested a complete scan from Astrometrics before we proceed."_  
  
"Very good."  
  
_"Stand by. We are being hailed, Captain." _Harry sounded surprised. _"Audio only. It's a request to board in forty-seven minutes and twenty-three point one seconds."_  
  



	3. Act 1

  
**ACT ONE**  
  
Captain Janeway leaned over Megan Delaney's shoulder and watched as the young woman initiated a tracer line through the readout on the monitor in front of her.  
  
"Do you see them, Captain?" Megan asked.  
  
"Yes. Good work, Megan."  
  
The young woman couldn't quite hide her satisfaction. "When Harry asked me to analyze the radiation levels in this area of space, the readings were inconsistent with what we would consider normal for those surrounding a Class Six Nebula of this size. "  
  
"And this is one of the largest nebulae we've seen."  
  
"Right. So there had to be some explanation for the excessive radiation." She powered up the largest view-screen in the Astrometrics lab. The nebula appeared in its center, divided into grids, each one marked numerically.  
  
Megan entered a calculation into the computer, and a magnified quartet of grids filled the screen.  
  
"The dark masses that you see are emitting radiation at levels I've never seen before." Megan continued. "They're almost volcanic in their eruption force."  
  
"Hot spots." Janeway turned back to Megan. "That's what my astrophysics professor at the Academy called them. They're an extremely rare phenomenon. And as far as we know, there is nothing we can do to stem the flow. I see at least four of them, and I imagine there are more. So how do the natives manage...?"  
  
When Megan recalibrated the readout, the entire nebula appeared once again on the large screen; but this time there was a difference. Janeway gazed at it and frowned in concentration.  
  
"A channel. Right through the nebula."  
  
Megan nodded. "Yes, Captain, and it's not a natural one either. I don't know how they did it, but someone has carved a route through it; and it's definitely traversable."  
  
"And the probable architects of this passageway are due to contact me again in..." Janeway checked her chronometer and started toward the door, "three minutes and eighteen seconds. From what I've seen so far, they are sticklers for punctuality. Among other things."  
  
"I'll continue to run the scans, Captain," Megan told her, "just to be on the safe side."  
  
"Good work, Ensign. I'll look for your report later."  
  
*****  
  
Janeway was frustrated while Chakotay was fascinated. The three Norratii who sat across from them at _Voyager's_ conference table were calm, polite, and intransigent. The heavily veiled threesome had arrived on board four hours ago, and Janeway had spent the hour prior to their arrival negotiating the procedures for their visit. So far, they had not even made enough progress to convince them to unveil. They still had no idea what the Norratii looked like.  
  
"Even the Tak Tak weren't this finicky." She groused quietly to Chakotay at one point, when the Envoy had requested -- no, demanded -- that only the Captain serve the _Oleris_ tea -- and only from the Ambassador's right-hand side. "And I thought some of our First Contact protocols too formal," she whispered. "We're positively lax."  
  
But the Norratii had made it very clear to them that unless their very specific codes of behavior were followed to the letter and their many requests for information met, there would be no contact at all, first or otherwise; that as far as they were concerned, _Voyager_ and her crew were no better or worse than any of the other "multitudinous species of questionable origin" who had entered into their space and deserved no "preferential treatment."  
  
Janeway folded her hands in front of her and took a deep breath.  
  
"Ambassador," she began, "let me reiterate once again that our only request is passage through your Ma'adim Channel on our way to our home on Earth. We have no other intentions -- no hidden agenda -- "  
  
"Captain," the Norratii who had identified himself as Second Envoy interrupted her, "we appreciate your hospitality and have been impressed with your efforts to conform to our standards. We are well aware of your desire to return to your Earth. As you have no doubt discovered during our dialogue, we value our home above all."  
  
"Well then..."  
  
"But at this time, we cannot allow you passage through our space and the Ma'adim Channel."  
  
The Third Envoy nodded in agreement, his veils shifting and shimmering with the movement. "It would be irresponsible of us to allow it and would contravene our vows of protection."  
  
Chakotay, who along with Neelix, Tuvok, and Tom Paris rounded out _Voyager's _diplomatic mission, caught Janeway's eye just as she was about to speak. She nodded at him imperceptibly, and he raised his hand in the accepted Norratii manner.  
  
"You may contribute," the Envoy responded.  
  
"We appreciate your hesitation, Envoy. We are aware of the dangers involved in negotiating the channel, but our pilot is skilled. We have had much experience in just this sort of intricate maneuver during our journey."  
  
"We are in no doubt of that," the Second Envoy said. "Your skills are not in question."  
  
"But there are other issues, are there not?" Chakotay probed gently. "You have certain rituals that must be followed."  
  
The Third Envoy's veils shimmered again as he indicated his agreement.  
  
"Yes. Only certain elements may pass through the channel."  
  
"Elements?" Janeway was puzzled.  
  
"I believe he means those who are deserving," Chakotay explained. "And as yet, we have not proven ourselves."  
  
The Ambassador nodded. "This is correct."  
  
"I would be honored if you would speak to me of your traditions." Chakotay continued. "I, too, come from a culture where customs and rituals play an important role in our lives. Perhaps if we continue our discourse over a dish of _vlerdan,_ we can reach an accord."  
  
"This would be an acceptable start." The Ambassador rose slowly from his chair. "And I invite you to join me in one hour. I will instruct you as to the arrangements shortly."  
  
The other two Norratii rose in unison and flowed after their leader as he left the conference room.  
  
There was a moment of silence after the doors swept shut.  
  
"_Vlerdan_?" Tom grinned.  
  
"I read some of the data the Norratii sent over along with their requests. It's a traditional dish."  
  
"Thank you, Commander. I thought we were at an impasse." Janeway leaned back in her chair and sighed audibly. "We were going around in circles and not accomplishing a thing."  
  
"It suddenly struck me that all their posturing was ritualistic, rather than pretentious or political. The veils, the argot, the protocols -- it all adds up to a society steeped in tradition or religion."  
  
"An excellent premise, Commander," Tuvok responded. "Perhaps if you continue to approach them on this basis, we can negotiate a passage through the channel after all."  
  
"I hope so Tuvok. But I have to admit, I find them a very interesting species. I'm looking forward to our discussions."  
  
*****  
  
The Captain stood in the center of the holodeck, which had been programmed to resemble an outdoor arena. On either side of her, Neelix and Tom Paris, both of whom had spent many hours planning, organizing, and implementing the arrangements for these long-awaited games, stood proudly at attention. Janeway watched as Naomi, the youngest crewman, dipped a traditional torch into a caldron that looked suspiciously like a vat of cream of leola soup. It must have been filled with something more flammable, though, for flames jumped into the air.  
  
"I hereby declare the _Voyager_ Olympics open," she proclaimed.  
  
The crew cheered as Tom took the torch from Naomi and placed it carefully in a sconce that had been attached to a pillar to one side of the field. It would remain there for the duration of the games.  
  
Neelix raised his arms to indicate the need for silence and waited while his audience settled down.  
  
"Ladies, gentlemen, and athletes." The crowd erupted once more, this time with laughter. Neelix grinned and continued, "The events will proceed over the next three days as planned, with one or two minor changes. Each one of you will find an amended schedule posted with your duty sheets. Please make sure you study it closely. We wouldn't want runners to turn up at the swimming pool, now would we?"  
  
Tom stepped forward. "With Commander Chakotay's assistance, we did our best to schedule the events so that you will all get a chance to participate or come out and root for your teams as often as you want."  
  
"Our first events will begin almost immediately, so don't go away." Neelix instructed. "Now Captain, if you could just move out of the way..."  
  
Janeway complied with alacrity as several members of her crew came running out onto the field, carrying the hurdles for the first of the track and field events.  
  
She made her way off the track and to the spot that she had staked out earlier. B'Elanna, cradling a sleeping Miral, was already settled into the seat next to her, and Janeway leaned over and gently stroked the infant's soft cheek.  
  
"I wish I could sleep like that." Janeway sighed, and B'Elanna grinned and nodded.  
  
"She's amazing, isn't she?" she agreed. "She'll sleep soundly through something like this, but when she's awake we can barely keep up with her. She's into everything now. A going concern, as Tom says."  
  
"I think Tom's mentioned sleepless nights a few times." Janeway smiled as the baby shifted in her sleep.  
  
"He's been pretty good. He doesn't complain when it's his turn to get up with her, even when he's pulled an early shift." B'Elanna leaned forward. "Look, they're almost ready to start the first race."  
  
"Good. I hope I'll be able to stay for the whole thing. Chakotay is still attempting to negotiate with the Norratii," Janeway tried, almost successfully, to hide her irritation, "and Tuvok is standing by to report."  
  
They turned their attention to the field, where the athletes were lined up at the starting gate. Neelix was acting as starter for this race, and he began the countdown.  
  
"On your mark, get set." The starting pistol rang out and the runners were away. The crowd cheered as the first hurdles were cleared, and the time for the first lap appeared on the scoreboard.  
  
"I'm betting on Henley." B'Elanna shouted. "Her practice times have been amazing."  
  
"Here comes Powell." Janeway exclaimed. "She set a hurdling record at the Academy, you know."  
  
"Six more laps to go. Go on, Henley." B'Elanna, not at all hampered by the baby in her arms, stood up to get a better view of the race. Janeway stood along with her, and all around them, the rest of the crowd cheered on their own favorites.  
  
"Captain, these Olympics were a terrific idea." B'Elanna had to shout through the din. "Thank you."  
  
"Thank your husband and Neelix, B'Elanna. They're the ones who ran with this one, if you'll pardon the pun."  
  
B'Elanna was too busy watching to respond. With three laps left, the race was tight -- the two favorites battling it out for first and second spot. Several of the hurdles were down, as were two of the runners, but the rest of the field was close behind the leaders.  
  
_"Tuvok to the Captain." _Janeway's communicator cut through the din.  
  
"Yes, Tuvok, report." Her response was somewhat breathless.  
  
_"I believe you should meet us in the conference room."_  
  
"On my way." Janeway out.  
  
She deactivated her comm badge and took one last look at the racers as she slipped through the crowd and out of the holodeck.  
  
*****  
  
"What have you got, Chakotay? And it had better be good. Powell was gaining on Henley in the women's 400-meter hurdles. I'd like to be there to present the first medal."  
  
"And collect on your bet, no doubt."  
  
Janeway almost managed a shocked expression. "What exactly are you implying, Commander?" She grinned at him as she settled into her chair at the head of the conference table.  
  
"They're an intriguing species, Kathryn. I've negotiated a transport onto their ship -- with two other delegates," he added quickly to forestall any objection she might raise regarding one-person away teams, "And they've agreed to 'discuss with intent,' as they put it, our passage through the Ma'adim Channel."  
  
"Do you think they're serious at this point? Or is it more posturing on their part?"  
  
"I was permitted to observe during the commander's most recent communications with the Norratii, Captain," Tuvok said, "and I believe they are sincere in their desire to work with us. The Commander was correct in his assessment of their culture. They are indeed steeped in tradition. Their culture is based almost entirely on custom and ritual. And in reading through the data that they transferred to us, it appears as if a number of their legends are based upon documented facts.  
  
"Rather like some of our own Terran cultures," Chakotay added. "The biblical Noah, for example. There are records of a major flood in many of our own legends. Babylonian, Chinese, Greek, and Native American lore all refer to similar disasters at about the same time in their history."  
  
Janeway nodded. "All right. Let's do it then. Who do you intend to take with you?"  
  
"Mike Ayala put in a request for the next away mission. I have a feeling he won't be too unhappy about missing the shot put."  
  
"Like-minded, are you?" Janeway grinned at him again. "Why don't you take Sam Wildman then? I don't think she'll be sorry to miss her event either. At least that was the impression I got when I spoke to her in the Mess Hall last night."  
  
"Good idea."  
  
"And in the meantime," she continued, "I'm going to have Megan Delaney continue to check for ways around the nebula. I don't like putting all our eggs in one basket, so to speak."  
  
"I concur, Captain." Tuvok nodded. "I will notify Ensign Delaney."  
  
"Our transport has been set up for 1400 hours. You go back to the games, Kathryn. Let me know how Henley did in the hurdles. I'll contact you from the Norratii ship as soon as I've got something to report."  
  
*****  
  
Standing in her mother's bedroom, Naomi Wildman folded her arms across her chest. She had no appreciation of how closely she resembled Samantha at that moment. "Mom, I can't believe you're going to miss your event! Your times have been so good lately."  
  
Sam stopped rummaging through her bureau drawer and grinned. "I know, Honey, but this is an important mission. I can't very well go and tell Commander Chakotay that I'm not going to be on the away team because I've got to run a race, can I?"  
  
"No, I guess not."  
  
The young woman's unhappiness was plain, and Sam took the girl's hands in her own. "Naomi, I haven't been on a real away mission for a long time -- not since I was on the _Delta Flyer_ and got caught in that ion storm a few years ago. I've got to go. And who knows? Maybe I'll be back in time. It could be just a short meeting. The race isn't until late this afternoon."  
  
"Icheb is playing in the second round of the Velocity tournament tonight at nine. Do you think you'll be home for that?"  
  
It was impossible to miss the wistfulness in her daughter's voice. "I probably will be. After all, it's just a diplomatic mission, Naomi. It shouldn't take more than a few hours."  
  
"I'll save a seat for you, okay?"  
  
"Of course. I'm looking forward to seeing them play. Now give me a hug and get going. The Doctor told me he's got you assisting in the lab this morning. You don't want to be late, do you?"  
  
"No, Mom. And Mom," Naomi's eyes twinkled as she watched her mother straighten her jacket and smooth her hair for the fourth time.  
  
"What, Honey?"  
  
"Have fun."  
  
*****  
  
Captain Janeway entered the bridge and gestured to Harry Kim at the Ops station as she took her seat. "Let's have it, Lieutenant."  
  
"Channel open," Harry replied, and the viewscreen shifted to show Chakotay on the Norratii ship. The first officer appeared to be alone except for Lt. Ayala and Ensign Wildman, who sat behind him in a room that bore a strong resemblance to _Voyager's _conference room.  
  
"Well, Commander," she said, "how are the negotiations coming along?"  
  
_"It's an interesting experience. So far, the only Norratii we've had any contact with are the Ambassador and his aides, and they have remained veiled. They are extremely reluctant to reveal their true form, and we've agreed to honor that."_ He smiled. _"Actually, they seem a little shocked that we are so open about our appearance. They seem to think that makes us vulnerable to potential enemies."_  
  
"As I recall, the Romulans held a similar philosophy for centuries." She frowned slightly. Time had proven the Romulans to be more than just secretive; they were masters of misdirection and semi-deceit; every diplomatic contact with them had more than one agenda.  
  
He seemed to follow her train of thought. _"So far, that appears to be the only similarity between the two. The Norratii have been very forthcoming in their discussions."_  
  
"Does that mean they will let us pass through the channel?" she asked, perking up.  
  
_"Possibly." _He hesitated. _"Have you found any other way through the nebula?"_  
  
"No. Astrometrics confirms that the channel is the only safe passage through the radiation. The alternative is to go around, but that would add months at normal warp and tax our fuel supplies to the limit in the slipstream. We could if we have to, though. Are they refusing to let us go through?"  
  
He shook his head. _"Not exactly. They offered us passage if the away team agrees to participate in what they call a 'test of character.' It's apparently part of their religious beliefs."_  
  
"How so?"  
  
_"According to the Ambassador, it took over a century to construct the channel. Literally hundreds of lives were lost in the process. The Norratii believe their Deity requires them to permit only those who are worthy to pass through, or the souls of the dead will be condemned."_  
  
Janeway sighed inwardly. It could be a religious matter, or it could be a method of assessing the strengths and weaknesses of a potential enemy. The Norratii could learn a great deal about them while they still knew virtually nothing about the Norratii, not even what they looked like. She reminded herself that First Contact always entailed a certain amount of risk. "Exactly what is involved in this test?"  
  
_"It appears to be an evaluation of resourcefulness and stamina. The away team would be deposited at a point on the southern continent on the planet near the channel's entrance and given three days to reach an end point. We can bring water and some minimal gear."_  
  
She pulled up the results of their scans of the planet and studied them quickly. The southern continent had no settlements, and only the forms of animal life which one could reasonably expect to see in the climates indicated appeared to be present. Still, alien planets often had hidden surprises. "It sounds too easy."  
  
For the first time, he smiled. _"I know. But the Norratii Ambassador has given me his word that there will be no surprise attacks from his people or anyone else, and I believe him. They seem to have a strict code of honor. They want to assess how we respond to the challenges of nature, given their guidelines."_  
  
"And those guidelines would be?"  
  
_"No intentional injury to any form of life and no intentional damage to property. And we have to reach the end point by sundown on the third day. I'm inclined to accept, Captain. The Ambassador guarantees that you can monitor our status at any time, and we can withdraw at any time. I honestly think they just want to evaluate the way we conduct ourselves."_  
  
His expression was so sincere that she almost missed the twinkle in his eyes -- almost. She did see it, though; and she realized that if there was a second agenda in the negotiations, it belonged to her own first officer. "And," she reminded him, "you wouldn't mind missing certain events that are scheduled over the next three days."  
  
Caught. He smiled, flashing both dimples at her. _"Well, it is for the good of the ship, Captain."_  
  
The smile was contagious and she returned it. "All right then. Tell the Ambassador you accept. Give Mr. Kim a list of the gear you'll need. We'll check in from time to time. And remember, we have an alternative, even if it's not one we'd prefer, so don't take unnecessary chances." She rose from her chair, and her eyes softened. "Take care, Commander. I have no doubt you and your team will represent _Voyager _well."  
  
_"Thank you, Captain."_ His eyes locked with hers for just a moment, and she knew he had understood the personal message underlying her words.  
  
"And Commander," she said, holding back a chuckle, "don't think a little hike is going to get you out of your obligations. We can postpone the decathlon until you return. _Voyager_ out."  
  
*


	4. Act 2

**ACT TWO**  
  
The Norratii transporter deposited the away team into a clearing surrounded by a tropical rainforest. Chakotay took a deep breath, noting the earthy smell of the air, and immediately thought of Dorvan. His village had been cut out of a forest like this; and in the summer, the air was just this thick.  
  
Without thinking, his hand went to the neck of the gray all-terrain suit he wore and opened the tab. It was going to get hot, and in his experience, the all-terrain suits were better at keeping one warm than cool. Fortunately, they were traveling light: each had a rolled-up, all-weather sleeping bag, a container of ration bars strapped across their back, and a canteen of water at the waist. In addition, Wildman carried a medical tricorder, Ayala a knife, and Chakotay a PADD with the map of their trail.  
  
Samantha Wildman was circling about, looking awed. "Can you imagine the plant and animal species in there?"  
  
"We won't have to imagine for long," Chakotay said. "We'll see a lot of them. The humidity isn't too bad yet, but it's still morning. By mid-afternoon, it's going to be oppressive. Ensign, check every water source we come to for potability. We're going to need all the water we can get."  
  
She nodded in response. "Where do we start?"  
  
Chakotay pointed to the east side of the clearing. "There. According to the map, the trail is marked by those red flags at key points." He showed them both the map, such as it was. A red line marked the irregular path they were to take, dotted by an occasional flag. The end point was an icon of a cat on a triangular pedestal.  
  
"You know, we really have less than three full days," Mike Ayala said. "We should have started at dawn."  
  
Chakotay shrugged. "It's only forty-five kilometers. We should make it without too much trouble."  
  
*****  
  
After two hours of making their way through the plant-choked path, Chakotay called for a break. After taking a drink of water, he used his sleeve to wipe the trickle of sweat from his face, then lowered the position of the neck tab on his uniform. The air was so dense that even the all-terrain uniform, designed to wick away moisture, was sticking to his skin. He had forgotten the humidity of the rainforests; it had been a long time since he wandered through the jungles on Dorvan. _Somewhere,_ he thought, _my father is watching this and laughing. All the fancy uniforms in the world can't replace experience and conditioning._  
  
Ayala had balanced himself against a tree and was bent forward, with his hands on his thighs. "Man, it's hot," he said, panting.  
  
Samantha sat on a large rock. "It's the humidity." Following Chakotay's lead, she opened the uniform at the neck tab and tried to fan herself. "It feels like it's going to rain any minute."  
  
Ayala looked up at the sky. "I don't think so. There's not a cloud up there."  
  
"Wait until later this afternoon," Chakotay said. "Trust me, it will rain." He remembered the afternoon showers on Dorvan in midsummer. Instead of clearing the air, they left a steaming residue that just made everything stickier. But there was no point in mentioning that now. They would find out soon enough.  
  
Ayala, though, looked at him with a question in his eyes. "You know, I read the account of the _Enterprise's_ experience on Dorvan. I got the impression it was an arid world. But you've always talked about growing up in the jungle."  
  
"Picard met with the tribal elders on the northeastern side of the continent," he said. "That's where the Hopi and Pueblo tribes settled. My village was to the west and south, closer to the equator, and on the windward side of the mountains." He shook his head, remembering. "My father and grandfather helped select the site for our village. They said it was the most like our traditional lands on Earth. Before that, I'd spent all my life on a starship and didn't think much of their choice. Now I remember why." He found himself smiling. "The Lakota village was in a nice, temperate climate. I thought that was a much better site."  
  
"I didn't know that," Samantha said. "You spent your childhood on a ship?"  
  
"I was born on one, just like Naomi, although I was about eight when we established our village. We were the first to colonize." He realized he hadn't thought about this in a very long time. "Five ships launched from Earth in the 2170's with remnants of nearly fifty different tribes. Our ship was the _Itzamná_. We were the Central American tribes, the descendants of the Maya, the Aztec, the Inca, and the Toltec. We didn't find the right planet for nearly two hundred years."  
  
"The 2170s?" Ayala shook his head. "No wonder you never felt connected to the Federation. Your people left while it was still brand new."  
  
"We left as soon as the warp 5 engine was in mass production, but we stayed in close contact for the first fifty years or so. Our records show we asked for Starfleet assistance more than once in the 22nd century, and we got it. And when we settled Dorvan, we established contact with Earth and applied for colony status immediately." Another trickle of sweat reached his eyes and he wiped it away. "But this isn't the time for a history lesson. Let's get going."  
  
With a shrug, he adjusted the placement of his light backpack and started down the path again, nearly tripping over a large tree root that grew across it. The narrow path forced them to walk single file. He looked back at Wildman and said, "Be careful."  
  
He had gone only a few more steps when he heard a shuffle behind him, followed by an odd buzzing sound. Even as he was turning to check the source of the noise, he heard Ayala yell, "Ow! Run!"  
  
Chakotay needed only a heartbeat to understand what had happened. Ayala had tripped over the root and apparently had disturbed a nest of flying insects, large enough to be some kind of bee or flying ant. A thick buzzing cloud was gathering above the root. The sound left no doubt that whatever they were, they were angry. And they wanted blood.  
  
Without hesitation, he turned and ran.  
  
And ran.  
  
He leaped over fallen logs, skidded down slopes, jumped across two small streams and leap-frogged across a large boulder. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that Wildman and Ayala were keeping up. So were the insects. Ayala was batting them away with his hands.  
  
Chakotay kept running. His lungs were burning and he was dripping with sweat, but he kept going. Low hanging branches scratched his face, but he pushed them aside as best he could and kept going. His legs became heavy and ached, but he kept going.  
  
Finally the trail rounded a curve, and he saw a pond ahead. He tried to tell Wildman what he intended but couldn't find enough air to talk. _They'll catch on,_ he thought. _And I hope that pond only contains water._  
  
Veering off the path, he waded knee-deep into the water, gulped as much air as he could, and submerged himself. The water was lukewarm but oddly soft against what little of his skin was exposed, and he raised a quick prayer of gratitude that it was a benign pool. He kept his eyes closed, but he heard his companions splashing in and under beside him.  
  
He waited until he thought his lungs would burst. Then, carefully, he raised his head above the surface of the water. The malevolent buzzing cloud had dissipated. Before he could signal the others, they both popped up, gasping. "Safe," Chakotay rasped. It was the most his tortured lungs would support. He slogged out of the water and collapsed at the water's edge.  
  
Wildman and Ayala, both sucking in air greedily, fell beside him. After a moment, Samantha's panting took on an odd rhythm and Chakotay realized she was laughing. "What's so funny?" he managed to ask.  
  
She slicked back her loose wet hair and grinned. "I came on this mission," she said, in short bursts accented by gasps, "because I didn't want to run the 440 in the Olympics."  
  
*****  
  
"How long has it been?" Samantha asked. The trail was wide enough at this point to allow her to walk beside Chakotay.  
  
He lifted a hand to shield his eyes and looked at the sky, which was rapidly filling with puffy gray clouds. "About four hours. I'd say it's barely mid-afternoon."  
  
"Where's that rain you promised?" Ayala asked from behind him. One ear was red and swollen from where he had been stung, and he sounded tired.  
  
Before Chakotay could answer, he felt a plop on his arm, then another on his head, and yet another on his other arm. "You asked for it," he said over his shoulder.  
  
In moments, the rain was coming down in earnest. Chakotay re-sealed the collar tab on his uniform to try to keep the drops from seeping in, but it was too late. The cool water actually felt good against his skin.  
  
The shower lasted less than five minutes, ending as abruptly as it began. The sky was clear once more and, as Chakotay had predicted, the air was thicker than ever. Condensation rose in white waves from the slick ground.  
  
"Whew." Ayala wiped his forehead. "It's even worse now."  
  
"It'll be like this for an hour or so, then we might get another shower." As they rounded yet another curve in the trail, Chakotay stopped. The ground suddenly dropped downward some three meters, but at a slope of nearly sixty degrees, and there was nothing to provide any footing on the rain-slicked earth. It was going to be difficult to get down the slippery slope, other than by the seat of the pants.  
  
"Oh, heck, I'll go first," Ayala said. "If I make it without falling, I can help you two."  
  
"If you can make it without falling, we all can." Chakotay grinned at him. "Go ahead."  
  
Taking small, careful steps, Ayala started down. The first few steps were fine, but then he began to pick up momentum. Chakotay cautioned, "Not so fast."  
  
"Right," Ayala replied, then he slipped and both feet flew out from beneath him. Suddenly sitting, he slid to the bottom of the hill.  
  
Are you all right?" Wildman asked.  
  
"Only my dignity is bruised." Ayala stood and tried to wipe away the wet dirt that clung to his uniform. "Who's next?"  
  
"Get ready, here I come," she said, and started down. Moving with great care, she managed to control her speed until she was more than halfway down. Then she stopped trying to hold herself back and just began to run. As she reached the bottom, Ayala grabbed her before she could fall.  
  
She looked up the hill with a cocky grin. "That's how it's done." Then she turned around slowly. Although there was a small open space at the bottom of the hill, it appeared to be enclosed on sides by brush and trees. "Hey. Where's the trail?"  
  
Ayala also looked, and then frowned. Turning to Chakotay he said, "You better get down here with that map. There's a little path through here," he pointed to his right, "but I'm not sure that's it."  
  
With a shake of his head, Chakotay started down. At first, the ground felt reasonably firm beneath his feet but about a third of the way down, it became much more slippery. Determined to make it all the way upright, he slowed himself and stepped carefully.  
  
He was almost to the bottom, barely two steps away, when he put his left foot forward and it didn't stop. He lunged forward in a desperate attempt to keep from falling backward and realized at once he had overcompensated. He managed two long strides forward before falling flat on his face at the edge of the trail.  
  
There was a noticeable silence as he lay still for a moment, his face in the dirt. Then Ayala said quietly, "Interesting technique."  
  
"Don't start, Lieutenant." Chakotay got his hands working and pushed up to his knees...  
  
...and found himself staring into the face of a very large snake.  
  
Not just a snake, not merely a snake: this was a huge, frighteningly splendid snake. Its head was shaped like a cobra's, hood flaring dramatically; its tongue elegantly long and oddly graceful as it darted in and out of the wide mouth; its eyes were black and glittering. A single, slender stem rose about six centimeters from the center of its head, ending in a flared, feathery-looking scale. But it was the skin that was unique. From the top of its head to the tip of its coiled tail, the iridescent scales sparkled like the rainbow, in long swaths of jewel-toned color: sapphire blue, emerald green, burnished gold, garnet red, opalescent white.  
  
It was beautiful.  
  
"Don't move," Ayala said softly.  
  
"No problem," Chakotay replied, barely moving his lips. His eyes were fixed on those of the reptile. He could swear it was looking at him with curiosity, even amusement.  
  
Samantha had the tricorder out. "It doesn't seem to be poisonous."  
  
"It's big enough to be a constrictor," Ayala replied, keeping his voice low. "I'll find a stick or something."  
  
"Don't kill it," Chakotay said. He could only imagine the penalty points they would earn for killing a creature this magnificent.  
  
"I won't. But maybe I can fling it away."  
  
The snake's tongue flicked suddenly, stretching and brushing against his forehead_. It's like being stroked by a feather_, he thought, _a soft and tickly feather_. He guessed it had probably touched his tattoo.  
  
The tongue retracted and disappeared altogether. Suddenly still, the snake blinked once, and Chakotay had the sense that it had seen enough and was going to leave. He almost relaxed.  
  
What happened next was too quick for his brain to process. The snake darted forward so quickly it was nothing but a blur of color, and then pulled back. He wouldn't have known he been bitten except for the icy pinprick, followed by intense heat. With a gasp, he clutched the site of the wound on his neck. The snake grinned at him and then slithered off into the underbrush.  
  
"Chakotay!" Ayala shouted.  
  
He collapsed to the ground, face down into a mixture of old leaves and dirt.  
  
Beside him, Ayala knelt and touched his shoulder. "Chakotay!" he said again, loudly, but his voice sounded odd. It was too loud and seemed to echo.  
  
The leaves crackled loudly as Samantha knelt on the other side. "It's not poison," she shouted, and her words echoed, too.  
  
Why were they shouting? Chakotay wondered. Was something wrong? It couldn't be him; he felt fine. He was completely aware of what was happening around him: Ayala was on his knees on the left, breathing heavily. There was a gnat circling his head and a bead of sweat running down the side of his face. Samantha was on his right, barely breathing at all. Blood trickled from a tiny cut on her finger. The ground smelled like spring on Dorvan, after the fields had been plowed, but before the planting. And he could hear the trees rustle in the breeze, the buzz of the insects, the shushing of the flower petals as they rubbed against each other.  
  
"You are here," a new voice whispered.  
  
He managed to raise his head. "I'm here."  
  
"Good to hear, old man," Ayala said. "For a minute there..."  
  
"Don't shout," Chakotay said. His own voice reverberated in his head, and he winced.  
  
The new voice whispered again, "You bear the mark of the People."  
  
"Yes. The Sky People." The echo was finally fading; his voice sounded almost normal again. Chakotay pushed himself up to a sitting position.  
  
Ayala helped him steady himself. "What about the Sky People?"  
  
Chakotay stared at him. "Didn't you hear what he said?"  
  
"What who said?" Ayala looked over at Samantha, who was still examining Chakotay with the tricorder. "What's wrong with him? Is he hallucinating?"  
  
"They cannot hear me," the voice said. "Only you. It has been long since the Sky People came."  
  
"He's definitely hearing something," Samantha said, frowning. "His inner ear is vibrating. That probably wouldn't happen if he was hallucinating." She lowered the tricorder. "Commander? What is it? What do you hear?"  
  
"I'm not sure," Chakotay said slowly, "but I think I hear -- him."  
  
The snake now sat coiled and calm less than two meters away, gazing at them. Chakotay stared at it, transfixed. He could see it clearly now, as if filters had been removed from his eyes. The colorful scales were long and tapered, with hundreds of fine ridges giving depth and texture to each one. Two or three of the same color overlapped one another before giving way to another shade, creating the illusion of feathers. "Kukulcan," he said softly. "The plumed one."  
  
The snake lowered and raised its head in acknowledgement.  
  
Ayala touched his shoulder. "Chakotay. It's a snake, not a cuckoo. It doesn't have feathers and it doesn't talk."  
  
"He is not of the People," the snake said. This time, Chakotay could see that the animal's tongue flicked and trembled as the words formed in his mind.  
  
"No, he isn't. But he will not hurt you."  
  
"Why have you come?"  
  
"We are being tested. Our ship is in the sky above us, but the ones who control this planet will not let us pass by unless they find us worthy."  
  
"Ah. There have been others from time to time. I have wondered. What is the test?"  
  
"We three must make our way to a place that has a cat on a pedestal, before the sun sets three times, and we must do so without doing harm to any plant or animal along the way."  
  
"I know the place. That path will take you there, but not quickly."  
  
"Kukulcan," Chakotay whispered. "Are you old friend or new?"  
  
The snake's scales rippled as the animal shifted slightly in its coil.  
  
"I am what you make me," was the enigmatic reply.  
  
"Chakotay," Ayala said. He sounded unnerved. "What's happening?"  
  
"He says that's the long way. Will you show us the trail, Kukulcan?"  
  
"Yes. Tell the dark one beside you that he has nothing to fear from me. I am well fed and will not be hungry again until after you are gone."  
  
Chakotay smiled and repeated that for the Security officer. "Help me up," he said.  
  
Samantha supported one arm and Ayala the other as they stood. "A snake with a sense of humor," Ayala muttered. "Wonderful."  
  
"How do you feel?" Samantha asked, ignoring her comrade's comment. "You look a little pale."  
  
"I was dizzy for a moment, but now I'm fine." Chakotay blinked and looked around. "It's different. I can see things more clearly. My hearing's sharper, too -- I think."  
  
"I can't find anything wrong with you," she said. "If you're up to it, we should get going."  
  
"I'm up to it." Chakotay looked down at the snake. "Which way, Kukulcan?"  
  
Instead of speaking, the snake slithered to Chakotay, wound itself up his right leg and kept circling his waist until all three meters of tail were wrapped around him. Extending his head to their left, the snake said, "There."  
  
Chakotay looked closely at the overgrown shrubs and small trees in the direction the snake indicated. "There it is," he said.  
  
"Where?" Ayala peered at the same place. "I don't see anything."  
  
"Under the leaves. You can see the older footprints." Chakotay moved confidently forward.  
  
With a shared look of doubt, Wildman and Ayala followed him into the brush.  
  
*****  
  
Marla set a cold drink on the table in front of Harry and said, "You're doing great."  
  
He didn't touch the glass. "I'm in second place."  
  
"But that's good."  
  
"Not when there are only two competitors." Harry shook his head. "I should have asked that the decathlon be cancelled when Chakotay backed out. I'm sure the Captain would have agreed."  
  
Marla sat down beside him. "He went on an important away mission. That's not the same thing as backing out. What's wrong? You're usually a better sport than this."  
  
He sulked for a moment more, then shrugged. "I thought Murphy would be tough to beat, but I knew I could finish ahead of Chakotay."  
  
She suppressed a smile. "I won't tell anyone you said that. Now, come on, cheer up. Your best events are tomorrow; and you have to be a positive frame of mind."  
  
Finally, he smiled. "Yes, coach. One positive attitude coming up."  
  
"That's the spirit. And next Olympics, you can volunteer for the last minute away team."  
  
*****  
  
Three hours after meeting Kukulkan, the away team stood on the bank of a placid river, looking for the place the trail resumed on the other side.  
  
"There." Ayala pointed to a marker, down river on the other side. "There's the trail."  
  
Chakotay looked at the mud-brown water. Even with his improved vision, it was not possible to see anything in it. "Sam, pull out that tricorder. Are there any life forms in there?"  
  
Kukulcan lifted his head and nodded, but he said nothing.  
  
Samantha removed the device from her belt. "This won't give the same information as a regular tricorder," she said.  
  
"I know. Just tell me if you see signs of anything that might be larger than a trout."  
  
She aimed the scanner at the water and studied the results. Her eyebrows shot upwards. "I don't know what it is, but there's a cold-blooded animal in there that is considerably larger than a trout."  
  
He wasn't surprised. The place strongly reminded him of the Chalchiutlicue River near his village, and that river always had a few predictable inhabitants. Looking around, he found a decently sized rock nearby and tossed it into the river. It splashed noisily.  
  
As did the large pair of jaws that broke the water and snapped the air where the stone had landed.  
  
"Crocs," he said, nodding. "This is a perfect place for them."  
  
"Crocodiles?" Samantha squeaked.  
  
"Or alligators. It doesn't make much difference. You might want to step back from the water."  
  
Ayala immediately took three steps inland. "Ohhh-kay," he said slowly. "Wading and swimming aren't options. How do we get across?"  
  
Chakotay waited to see if Kukulcan was going to offer any suggestions, but the snake simply tucked his head back into the coil around Chakotay's waist and seemed to go to sleep, apparently uninterested. _Well,_ Chakotay thought, _that must mean there is an obvious solution._  
  
He looked around. There was nothing on the ground they could use to make a bridge. The banyan-like trees that grew on either side of the river apparently hadn't lost any large branches in a long time.  
  
The trees. Aerial roots dropped from horizontal branches some ten meters overhead, creating a central root complex several meters in diameter. The branches spread out well beyond that. Chakotay kept looking until he found the right configuration. "Look," he said, pointing upward. That branch is thick enough to support our weight."  
  
"Yes," Ayala said, "but it only goes halfway."  
  
"Look to the left. There's another branch big enough to hold us."  
  
Samantha exhaled audibly. "We're supposed to jump to that branch? Like squirrels?"  
  
"It's only a meter. Just a step." Chakotay ran his hand over the bark of one of the aerial roots. "This is a rough surface. Climbing shouldn't be a problem." He looked over his shoulder. "Unless one of you has a better idea, follow me."  
  
He began climbing up the large root. Its hard and wrinkled surface offered more than enough toeholds and hand-holds for upwards progress. _How long has it been since I climbed a tree?_ He thought about it, and decided the last time must have been on Dorvan. He had climbed simulated trees and posts and pillars while at Starfleet Academy, not the real thing. And when he fought the Cardassians, he had scaled walls and breached forcefields, but never a live tree.  
  
It took only a few minutes to reach the chosen branch. He stretched out, intending to haul himself up to it, and discovered the first flaw in his plan. Unlike the root, the surface of the branch was smooth and slick. His hand slipped, throwing him off balance, and he had to reach frantically to grab the root to avoid falling.  
  
"What's wrong?" Samantha, behind him, asked.  
  
"Nothing serious." He thought for a moment. "The bark on the branch is slippery. We'll have to get above it, then sit on it."  
  
"Won't that make jumping difficult?" Ayala asked from behind Samantha.  
  
"It might. We'll evaluate it when we get there." He continued up the root and then carefully straddled the branch. He had to grip it tightly with his thighs to keep his seat. Carefully, he pulled himself forward.  
  
The surface wasn't entirely frictionless, but close enough to make sliding over the branch easy as long as he could keep his balance. A slip to the left, a tip to the right, and he would have tumbled into the river in a second. He moved slowly to be certain that didn't happen.  
  
When he reached the crossover point, he stopped. What had seemed like an easy step from the ground now looked like an impossible gap. There was no way they were going to be able to stand on the branch and walk across, and attempts to jump were likely to be unsuccessful. He frowned and shook his head. "I don't think this will work."  
  
"Wait." Kukulcan raised his head and began to unwind himself. "There is a way."  
  
"Should we back up?" Ayala called.  
  
"Not yet," Chakotay said. "Kukulcan says to wait."  
  
The snake left Chakotay and spiraled around the branch until its tail was firmly coiled. Then it effortlessly reached its head across to the other branch and began to wind itself there, until its entire length had been transferred to the other branch. It continued coiling away until it reached a thick vine that dangled from a point over the land. Clamping its jaws around it, the snake then reversed itself and returned to the point across from Chakotay. Keeping its tail firmly around the branch, it extended across the gap and brought the vine with it.  
  
Ayala said softly, "I've never seen anything like that."  
  
The snake retracted back to the opposite branch. "Swing," he said.  
  
Moving carefully, Chakotay maneuvered his outside leg over the branch and, clutching the vine, swung across the river. He let go when at the apex of the vine's arc and dropped about a meter to the soft ground beneath.  
  
With a grin, he stood and dusted himself off. "It works," he told the two still sitting on the tree branch. "Nothing to it."  
  
Kukulcan retrieved the vine and delivered it to Samantha, who didn't let go at the top of the arc. Chakotay caught her as she began to swing back toward the river. "I've got you, Ensign," he said. "Let go now."  
  
Samantha complied, and the sudden transfer of weight threw him off balance. They both toppled to the dirt. "Sorry," she said, scrambling to her feet.  
  
Once more the snake took the vine across the trees and gave it to Ayala. He swung down and joined the other two, managing to land on his feet. "I may have misjudged that snake," he told Chakotay. "He sure helped us out."  
  
Kukulcan was making its way down a nearby aerial root. "Tell him that I exerted myself greatly," he said as he slithered to the ground, "and I will be hungry sooner than I anticipated."  
  
Chakotay delivered the message without even a hint of a smile as the snake glided up his leg and settled in around his waist once more. Ayala stared at him. "He's joking, right?"  
  
"Probably." Chakotay shrugged. "Let's move on."  
  
"Quickly," Kukulcan's voice whispered. The snake had twisted its head so that it was looking behind Chakotay.  
  
"What?" Chakotay looked over his shoulder, toward the river. Three large animals that looked like crocodiles were heading toward them. They were ungainly but surprisingly quick. "Run!" He shouted, pushing them both forward, and taking his own advice.  
  
Luckily, the trail stayed in the clear, but that meant there was nothing to impede the crocodiles, either. Although not as swift as their counterparts on Earth or Dorvan, they kept following at a steady pace, occasionally snapping their jaws and displaying impressively large teeth. "Why," Ayala gasped as they ran, "aren't they giving up?"  
  
"They prefer red meat to fish," Kukulcan answered. "You smell delicious."  
  
Uncertain if the snake were joking, Chakotay decided not to pass that along. They kept running, zig-zagging at right angles whenever the reptiles got too close, until he stumbled on a stone in the path. He managed not to fall, but as he was struggling with his balance, he saw that there were several stones of the same size lying about. He grabbed Ayala's arm. "Shot put."  
  
Ayala hardly broke stride as he bent and scooped up one of the stones. Circling three times in place, he then hurled the stone at the crocodiles. It landed squarely on the long snout of one, pinning it to the ground. The unexpected stop caused the animals hind legs and tail to rise into the air and flail frantically.  
  
The others stopped for a moment, confused by the sounds from their companion. Then one of them roared and started forward again.  
  
But Chakotay had already picked up one of the stones and was building momentum in a classic circle. Shot put was one of his weakest events -- it was the main reason he wanted to avoid competing in the decathlon -- but the crocodile was close enough that it didn't matter. The stone landed on the middle of the animal's back, with enough force to knock it to the ground, legs splayed. He didn't think he had ever seen an animal look so surprised.  
  
Beside him, Ayala was already spinning to loose another stone. This one struck the third crocodile on its foot, and the animal yelped like a puppy in pain.  
  
For a moment, they all stood frozen, humans, snake and crocodiles; then, the crocodiles turned in unison and began waddling back toward the river. One of them -- the one that was limping -- looked back with unmistakable yearning before continuing on its way.  
  
"Oh, my," Samantha said faintly.  
  
Chakotay's lungs were burning from the effort of running and throwing; and he wondered whether the Norratii would approve or disapprove of his decision. Hurling rocks at the animals was technically a violation of the rules, but he considered it preferable to being eaten and hoped the enigmatic aliens would agree. Rasping, he said to Ayala, "Nice throw."  
  
To his surprise, Ayala looked disgusted. "It was, wasn't it? I should have stayed on _Voyager._ That wasn't so hard after all."  
  
"That was your event? The shot put?" Samantha asked.  
  
He nodded. "Can you believe it? I thought I'd make a fool of myself." He slapped Chakotay on the back. "We should keep moving."  
  
*****  
  
Cheers erupted as Tom Paris crossed the finish line, and he raised his arm in triumph. Not only had he just won the slalom, the only winter event in _Voyager's _Olympic Games, he had set a Terran record. He basked in the appreciation of his crewmates.  
  
B'Elanna handed Miral to Harry and ran to hug him. "I am so proud of you," she said fiercely.  
  
He held her just as tightly, savoring the moment. Then he whispered, "Stay here."  
  
Without letting go entirely, she leaned back and looked at him. "But you have to go get your medal."  
  
"Wait," he said quietly. "Something popped in my ankle. I'm not sure I can walk. I need your help."  
  
Immediately, she slipped his arm around his waist, looking like nothing more than a proud lover and spouse sharing a moment of glory. No one could tell that she was supporting his weight as they walked. "The Doctor is right over there," she said through lips stretched to look like a smile. "Do you need him?"  
  
"Not yet." Tom, too, was speaking through a frozen grin. "Just stay with me."  
  
"Always." Then she chuckled.  
  
"What?" he asked.  
  
"Just think," she said. "You could have gone with the away team and not been hurt. All they're doing is a little stroll on a marked trail."  
  
*****  
  
Chakotay lay on his blanket, looking up at the clouded sky. They had found a suitable campsite just before sunset and started a fire using branches and kindling already on the ground. Kukulcan had suggested adding a certain type of leaf, which was lying scattered about; it produced a thin but aromatic smoke that seemed to keep the mosquitoes at bay. The fire was a bit of a stretch as far as the rules were concerned, but Chakotay felt that a liberal interpretation allowed the use of plants that were clearly already lifeless. After an unsatisfying meal of a single ration bar each, they had spread their sleeping bags around the campfire. Chakotay discovered his was still damp.  
  
_Voyager_ _is up there,_ he thought, even though the clouds obscured the stars. _Kathryn is up there. _Since Prixin, only a few nights had passed when they hadn't shared dinner, if not a bed, and it felt odd without her -- uncomfortable, and not because of the hard ground and lack of pillow. Something was missing that he needed to feel whole.  
  
"You think of your mate." Kukulcan said to him. The snake was curled in a tree branch above him.  
  
"Yes," he replied softly, so the others wouldn't hear.  
  
"As do I. Mine is far from here, waiting for my return."  
  
Chakotay blinked and sat up. "Have we taken you too far?"  
  
"Not too far. Never too far. We are as one."  
  
"That's good." He lay down again, and thought about those words. Were he and Kathryn as one? In some ways, yes. But in some ways...as long as they were still on _Voyager_, in the Delta Quadrant or even the Beta Quadrant, they would never be able to realize the full potential of their feelings. She was the Captain and he was the First Officer, and that created restrictions that they could not challenge. Restrictions, and tensions. And keeping the barrier between the bedroom and the Bridge was proving harder than he had imagined.  
  
"Are you talking to that snake again?" Ayala asked. He lay on a blanket only a meter away.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"You know, old man, the only talking snake I ever heard of was in the Garden of Eden. It sold Eve a bill of goods and then moved on."  
  
Chakotay smiled. "You're comparing Kukulcan to Lucifer?"  
  
"If the skin fits..."  
  
"As I recall, the snake in Eden walked as well as talked. I haven't noticed legs on our friend here."  
  
"He doesn't need them as long as you're around." Ayala propped himself up on his elbows. "Are you sure you're all right?"  
  
"I'm fine. Go to sleep, Mike. We've got a long way to go tomorrow."  
  
Ayala lay down. The night was still.  
  
And then a howl cut through the air, a howl of pain or loneliness or both. All three members of the away team sat up. Samantha spoke first. "What was that? It sounded like a child."  
  
"No," Chakotay said. "A monkey, perhaps. Or a hyena. It was a long way off."  
  
"Did the snake tell you that?" Ayala asked.  
  
"No, but I can tell. It isn't close."  
  
The howl cut through the air again, chilling them in spite of the heat. Ayala sat up. "Maybe it would be a good idea to keep a watch."  
  
Chakotay considered the proposition. It wasn't as if they had weapons and could fight off a predator if one approached, but on the other hand, if they didn't appoint a watch, they'd probably all stay awake, listening to the foreign sounds of the planet. "Good idea. Three-hour shifts. You start, then me, then Ensign Wildman. That should get us through dawn."  
  
"Yes, sir," Samantha said, so quickly that he knew she was relieved.  
  
He lay down again and looked skyward. _Goodnight, Kathryn. Sleep well._  
  
*


	5. Act 3

  
**ACT THREE**  
  
They rose at dawn and continued on the trail, speaking very little. They only had ration bars for breakfast, and after everything they had been through the day before, the bars were not particularly satisfying. None of them wanted to complain, though, and opted for silence instead.  
  
The trail began to slope uphill. Soon Chakotay realized they were heading upward, into foothills, if not actual mountains. The jungle vegetation began to thin and give way to a different climate, one that seemed more appropriate to a chaparral region. He began to notice barrel-type cacti, then juniper-like shrubs and prickly pear cacti.  
  
The first words of the day were spoken an hour before noon.  
  
"Hey," Ayala called from behind, "does anyone else's hands itch?"  
  
Chakotay realized that he had been unconsciously rubbing his hands against his thighs as he walked. "Now that you mention it, yes."  
  
"Me, too." Wildman looked closely at her own palms and frowned. "Uh-oh. Looks like poison ivy."  
  
Studying his own hands, Chakotay saw tiny welts beginning to form under the skin. "It must have been the leaves of those trees." In the last hour, the trail had taken them through a grove of trees with large, shiny leaves that hung low, down to the level of their heads. They had been forced to go slowly and push each branch away by hand.  
  
Ayala began to rub his neck. "I think you're right. I itch all over."  
  
"Stop that!" Wildman said sharply. "You'll just spread it."  
  
Whether the toxin was being spread by his own sweat or if he was just reacting to Ayala's suggestion, suddenly Chakotay felt his own neck and face begin to burn. He had to fight the urge to scratch furiously. "We need to find a place to wash."  
  
Kukulcan roused himself and slid to the ground. "Use the healing plant. It will help." He continued along until he reached a large succulent growing near the trail.  
  
They followed him, and Chakotay and Wildman both crouched beside the plant. Its leaves were thick and springy to the touch. "I wish I had a regular tricorder. This one just isn't calibrated for non-medical uses. But I think this may be some form of aloe," Wildman said. "The inner gel looks like it may have soothing properties."  
  
"It will help," Kukulcan said, and Chakotay repeated what it had said.  
  
Wildman frowned. "We'd have to cut off a piece."  
  
It would be outside Norratii guidelines, Chakotay thought, but they didn't have much choice. He looked again at his palms and saw that the welts were turning red. The itching was getting worse, and if they couldn't control it soon, they would have to withdraw from the test and seek medical help. "Use as little as possible," he told her, "but we've got to try."  
  
Ayala hand her the knife, and Wildman carefully cut off the tip of one leaf. It began dripping a white gel as she lifted it, and Ayala caught a drop or two in his palm and then rubbed his hands together. Almost immediately, he smiled. "That's incredible. The itching stopped. Let me have a little more."  
  
Eagerly, they each slathered the gel on their hands, necks and faces. Relief was immediate and, Chakotay thought, almost cool, as if a cold compress had been used. "I wonder how long this will last."  
  
"A while, I hope. There's no way to take any with us." Samantha looked at the plant regretfully. "I'd love to have a sample. Or even a tricorder reading to study it." Then she looked at the cutting in her hand, now pressed thin and dry, and back to the leaf from which it had been sheared. "I wonder ..."  
  
She knelt and lined up the sheared edges of the tip and the leaf. As soon as they were aligned, the plant convulsed, pumping more gel into the tip and sealing the cut. In a matter of seconds, the leaf was whole and unscarred. "Wow," Wildman said. "I really wish we could take this with us."  
  
"Perhaps the Norratii will let us come back for a sample." Chakotay looked at the sky as Kukulcan returned to his place around his waist. "We need to keep moving. Let's go."  
  
*****  
  
Janeway was smiling as she entered the Bridge. "I'm pleased to announce that everyone survived the solo kayaking event," she said as she approached her seat. Tuvok rose and surrendered the command chair to her.  
  
"Since the holodeck safety protocols are in place, I did not think that was in doubt," he said, returning to his station.  
  
Harry Kim looked up from Ops. "Who won?"  
  
"No one. Or everyone, depending on your point of view." She chuckled. "First Chell overturned and lost his grip on his kayak. It bumped into poor Billy Telfer and startled him so badly that he tipped over, too. The order of finish was Chell's kayak, Telfer's kayak, and then Chell and Telfer, clinging to each other as they floated across the line."  
  
She was surprised to see Harry grin in response. "Don't tell me you had a bet on that outcome?"  
  
"A tie," he confirmed.  
  
With a shake of her head, she crossed her legs. "Raise the Norratii ship, Harry. It's time to check in on our away team."  
  
"_Voyager_ to the Norratii ship. Please respond."  
  
Janeway settled back, by now accustomed to the delay in responses from the mysterious aliens. There had been no communication from the away team since they had been transported to the planet. Although all their scans, readings and analyses had indicated the Norratii terrain was not unusually hostile, and the atmosphere was similar to Earth's, they were still on an alien planet in the Beta Quadrant; and one thing she knew for certain -- from far too many experiences -- was that the unexpected should be expected.  
  
Chakotay had explained to her that they had been told they were to be on their own for the duration of their so-called test, but nothing prohibited monitoring their progress visually. She had checked in yesterday and had been relieved to see that the three on the planet were safe. The visual was from something of a distance, so details were hard to discern, but it was clear that they were moving well and that there was no apparent danger. Chakotay appeared to have acquired a colorful belt or sash of some kind, but that was the only thing out of the ordinary. After watching long enough to assure herself that all was well, she had ended the transmission.  
  
There was no reason to think she would see anything different now. She would be able to check on the team and still have plenty of time to return to the holodeck for the four-man kayak event.  
  
*****  
  
The trail stopped abruptly at a deep gorge. Chakotay looked over the ledge and felt his heart sink. The canyon below was at least half a kilometer deep, maybe more. Even with his heightened vision, the bottom was obscured by trees and rocks. Kukulcan's tongue extended and quivered, but the snake said nothing to him.  
  
"There's the rest of the trail," Samantha said, pointing across the gap. The opposite ledge was actually a little lower than where they stood, and the trail was clearly visible as it led away. The only problem was that the opposite ledge was at least eighty meters away. "And a way to get there."  
  
The "way" was nothing more than two stout ropes connecting the ledges, one running from the top of the near ledge to the top of the far ledge, and one running parallel some two and a half meters beneath it.  
  
"Or we can go down and up again." Ayala pointed to a narrow, winding path running along the steep canyon walls.  
  
Chakotay studied the path. It was littered with loose rock and soil, and there didn't seem to be much in the way of plant life, or even crevices in the canyon wall, to use as handholds. One misstep would lead to a long and fatal fall. "We'd have to be careful."  
  
Samantha shook her head. "It will take too long to go that way. We'd lose hours, perhaps the whole day."  
  
"You want to use the ropes?" Ayala asked, surprised. "I thought you didn't like heights."  
  
"I don't," she said shortly, and then wiped her forehead with her arm. "But I'd rather spend twenty minutes on that rope rather than a whole day looking down."  
  
Kukulcan raised his head to Chakotay's ear. "Time," he said. "The sun is setting."  
  
Chakotay raised an arm to protect his eyes and looked to the sky. "He's right. We'd never make it down the path before sunset."  
  
"The snake again?" Ayala shook his head. "I tell you, old man, there's something creepy about taking advice from a reptile."  
  
"I'd take advice from a talking mule if it knew as much about this terrain as that snake does," Samantha said. "Well, Commander? Do we try the ropes, or wait until morning and start on the path?"  
  
High rope training was part of Starfleet Academy's survival training, but it was a skill that was rarely used after graduation except by the Rangers and the Marines. He doubted Samantha had been on high ropes in ten years. "You don't have to try to walk across, if that bothers you too much," he said to her. "You can manage with the top rope alone."  
  
She glanced at the ropes and shrugged. "I know. The same thing happened at the Academy. It's one of the consequences of acrophobia. I managed it then. Actually, it might be easier that way, since I'll be looking up the whole time. But someone will have to be over there already to help me up to the ledge."  
  
Chakotay nodded. "All right. Mike, you'll go first, then Samantha, then me. Everyone take a drink of water and secure your packs."  
  
After the packs were cinched and canteens replaced, Ayala bent down and snatched up a handful of dirt and rubbed it on his hands. He stood on the edge and studied the ropes for a moment, then nodded. "See you on the other side."  
  
Gripping the top rope with both hands, he lowered himself carefully over the side. Chakotay kept a grip on his wrists until Ayala said, "Okay. I've got my footing."  
  
Chakotay let go, and Ayala began moving forward slowly, sliding one hand on the top rope and one foot on the lower rope forward, and then bringing the other hand and foot to meet them. One slow, sliding step at a time, he made his way across.  
  
Chakotay and Samantha watched in silence as Ayala advanced a meter, then two, then five. Then a sound caught Chakotay's attention, a soft distant whistling.  
  
"Wind," Kukulcan whispered.  
  
"Mike!" Chakotay shouted. "Stop there."  
  
Ayala stopped immediately, and almost at once the soft whistle became a rustle and then a whoosh of stiff air blew through the canyon. The ropes began to sway back and forth, the lower rope swinging in a wider arc than the upper one. Ayala struggled to keep his footing without losing his overhand grip.  
  
The wind died as quickly as it came up, and after a few seconds the movement stopped and the ropes steadied. "I'm okay," Ayala shouted, and began moving forward again.  
  
Samantha let out a huff of air; she must have been holding her breath. "Swell," she muttered and turned to Kukulcan. "Was that a fluke, or can we expect more of that?"  
  
"Evening winds," the snake said. "It is their time."  
  
Samantha evidently knew that Kukulcan had replied to her question because she looked to Chakotay. "What did he say?"  
  
"There might be a breeze or two," Chakotay said, trying not to add to her anxiety. "We should go as quickly as we can."  
  
"Uh, huh." She turned back to watch Ayala's progress.  
  
_She's tired,_ Chakotay thought. In seven years, he had never heard Samantha Wildman respond to a superior officer so casually. He noted the hard set of her jaw and tight lines around her mouth and realized that she was not only tired, she was deeply frightened.  
  
After ten agonizing minutes, Ayala reached the other side. Then he stopped and didn't move. "What's wrong?" Samantha asked.  
  
"He's just looking for a handhold or toe hold help him climb up." Chakotay shook his head. "There isn't one."  
  
"You can see that from here?" She asked, then realized that his vision was still enhanced. "How's he going to get up?"  
  
"Watch." Chakotay smiled. "I've seen him do this before."  
  
As if he heard a cue, Ayala shifted his overhand grip so that his hands clutched the rope from the same direction. Then he lifted his feet from the lower rope and began to swing his legs.  
  
Samantha's eyes widened as she watched. "Oh, my God! What's he doing?"  
  
Each swing built momentum until Ayala hurled himself upward, twisting in the air. His legs landed on the ledge, and he pushed himself back until he was able to stand up.  
  
"He was a gymnast at the Academy," Chakotay said. "Are you ready?"  
  
Like Ayala had, she bent down and scooped up some dirt to rub on her hands. He saw fear in her eyes, but determination, too. "I can do this."  
  
"I know you can." He put a hand on her shoulder and looked directly into her eyes. "Just keep looking up. It will be all right, Ensign."  
  
She took a deep breath and nodded once. "Yes, sir."  
  
He helped her lower herself over the edge and, as he had with Ayala, kept a grip on her arms until her legs were set. She was far too short to use the same technique, so she wrapped her legs around the upper rope. "All right," she said. "Here goes."  
  
She extended her legs until she was almost stretched flat along the rope, then moved hand over hand until she was hanging in a tuck. Then she extended her legs again, moving forward about twenty centimeters at a time.  
  
Chakotay found himself holding his breath. Irrational fears, like a fear of heights, could be crippling, and if Samantha froze now, they would have a serious problem. But she inched her way along, moving silently. He could see her upturned face grimacing in concentration.  
  
Then he heard it again -- the distant whistling sound. "Samantha, tuck up and hold on," he called. "There's going to be some wind."  
  
She did as he said, wrapping her arms around the rope as tightly as she could. The wind was faster than before and rushed the canyon with more force. The lower rope, lacking ballast, rippled wildly, and the upper rope swayed from side to side.  
  
The wind was strong enough to rip open one of the fabric closures on her belt and the medical tricorder came loose. It hovered for a moment, sustained by the moving air, and then plummeted downward silently  
  
Samantha closed her eyes.  
  
Then it was over, and the canyon was still again. Chakotay listened and heard nothing more coming. "It's safe again," he called. "Get going."  
  
She did not respond immediately. She swallowed and opened her eyes, but otherwise did not change her position. He could see tears on her cheeks.  
  
"Ensign!" He called. "That's an order. Move!"  
  
Slowly, Samantha loosened her arms and extended her legs a few centimeters. The next time she moved farther, and then got back into a rhythm that covered about twenty centimeters with each extension.  
  
Kukulcan was watching her as well. "She is doing well. Her fear does not stop her."  
  
"Yes," Chakotay said. "She's doing very well."  
  
He watched each painful increment of progress until she was three-quarters of the way there, and then he heard it again. This time, though, there was no distant whistle; the wind was almost upon them. "Sam!" He shouted. "Hold on!"  
  
She froze in place, her body extended to its full length along the rope. The gust raced through the natural tunnel of the canyon, whipping her hair loose from its severe ponytail. Her arm slipped a little, but she didn't lose her grip.  
  
It took longer for it to die down this time, but she needed no urging to resume again. She moved quickly, more quickly than she had at any time on the ropes, looking like an upside-down inchworm on a mission.  
  
When she finally reached the opposite ledge, Ayala grabbed her by the ankles and hauled her up to safety. She stood, but her knees were wobbly, and Ayala had to support her. "I'm okay," she called.  
  
Chakotay nodded. It was his turn. "Tuck in," he told Kukulcan, and the snake immediately lowered its head to the tail that was coiled around Chakotay's waist. Gripping the rope tightly, he lowered himself and found the lower rope with both feet. He'd had to do this once or twice in the Maquis and wouldn't have been too worried, if it weren't for that wind.  
  
He moved forward as quickly as he dared, sliding hand and foot forward. The lower rope seemed less stable than the upper one, wiggling and rippling in ways he hadn't discerned when Ayala crossed. He reminded himself quickly that it was normal and kept going.  
  
He kept his eyes fixed on the other side, on Ayala and Wildman. Heights didn't bother him, but looking down was simply not a good idea. His vision would adjust to the different perspective and the depth would distract him, and he didn't need that. He needed to be focused on his objective. Just slide forward, catch up. Slide forward, catch up.  
  
The ambient noise was different on the ropes. Just being below the rim changed everything. The canyon walls bounced the sounds back and forth, so that it was hard to tell what was a new noise and what was an echo. He couldn't accurately identify the source of any sound.  
  
But when he heard the roar, he knew what was coming. He stopped and tightened his hands.  
  
The wind whipped past, bringing dirt and dust that stung his face and forced him to close his eyes. The ropes suddenly seemed alive and desperate to escape his weight. The upper rope vibrated and scraped in his hands, while the lower rope swung from side to side and undulated beneath his feet at the same time. Acting purely on instinct, he flexed and stretched and twisted, trying to keep his balance and his feet securely on the lower rope.  
  
The force of the wind diminished abruptly but it did not go away entirely. He began to move forward again, but it was more difficult. The ropes continued to move on their own. He could swear the upper rope was pulsating in his grasp.  
  
He saw Ayala and Wildman, both kneeling at the lip of the rim, silently urging him on. "How bad do these winds get?" he asked through gritted teeth.  
  
The snake answered without lifting its head. "Worse."  
  
He was halfway across when he heard it again, and braced himself. This time, though, the gale struck him like a fist in the midsection and blew him off the lower rope completely. His legs flew upward, raised by the force of the air stream until he was almost parallel with the ground below. Desperately, he held on to the upper rope.  
  
Then the wind diminished again, and suddenly he was hanging from the upper rope, legs dangling wildly as he tried to find the lower one. Chancing a look downward, he saw that the lower rope was dancing as if in triumph at shaking him off. There was virtually no chance that he was going to regain his footing.  
  
He regained control over himself and considered for just a moment. He had two options -- going hand over hand like this, or swinging upwards and using Samantha's inchworm technique. He decided that while the inchworm might lack grace, it was safe, given the wind. With two swings, he had enough momentum to reach up and wrap his legs around the rope.  
  
And it was not a moment too soon, because the wind reared up again, pushing and swirling. It required all his strength to hold on, using every muscle in his arms and legs. As soon as the wind reduced to something less than storm force, he began to move forward as quickly as he could.  
  
He had to crane his neck forward so he could see the ledge, and it seemed to take an eternity to close the gap. "Come on, old man," Ayala called. "You're almost there."  
  
He was still three meters away when the wind came up again, buffeting him with its strongest blast yet, but he held on. When the rope was somewhat steady again, he continued his slow progress until he finally he reached the end of the rope. Ayala and Wildman helped him scramble to the safety of solid ground.  
  
Chakotay sat for a moment, breathing heavily. His muscles didn't quite believe that they were on solid land again.  
  
Sitting beside him, Samantha suddenly grinned. "You know," she said, "I think that should be in our Olympics."  
  
"What the heck," Ayala said. "Let's declare it is and give ourselves gold medals."  
  
For reasons he couldn't explain, even to himself, Chakotay began to laugh.  
  
*****  
  
"Captain." The view-screen flickered suddenly, and the veiled First Envoy greeted her immediately as usual. "We are honored by your continued interest in our ritual. You know, of course, that you are free to keep this visual link open for as long as you like."  
  
Just as abruptly, the Envoy disappeared from the view-screen, and was replaced by an aerial view of a deep canyon. Janeway leaned forward and watched with dawning horror as she absorbed what she was seeing. The small figure, dangling precariously from a rope over the ledge of the deep gorge, obviously at the mercy of strong winds, was Chakotay. She could see both his companions working to reach him.  
  
There wasn't a sound on the bridge as they all watched the drama being played out in front of them. Janeway rose from her seat and took two steps toward the screen, staring at the images. "Mr. Kim," she said quietly, not moving her eyes, "can you get a transporter lock on him?"  
  
"Done. Should I beam him out?"  
  
She hesitated, then shook her head. "Wait. If he falls get him, but not until then."  
  
Chakotay's progress was agonizingly slow. When Ayala and Wildman finally pulled him up over the side of the cliff, there was more than one audible sigh of relief on the bridge.  
  
Janeway turned to Harry. "Run the video feed into my Ready Room."  
  
"Yes, ma'am."  
  
Without another word she turned and left the bridge.  
  
In her Ready Room, she went straight to her desk. The monitor was already alive with the visual link. The away team was sitting on the ground, no doubt catching a second wind after their harrowing experience. She went to the replicator and ordered a cup of coffee. She was annoyed to see that her hands were trembling slightly as she removed the cup.  
  
"Stop that," she said aloud.  
  
By the time she returned to her chair, Chakotay and the others were on their feet again, heading up the trail. As she sipped her coffee, the questions that she had held at bay on the Bridge assaulted her. Should she call a halt to this now? Had she made the right choice, letting them go in the first place? Was she worrying unnecessarily? And was she worrying unnecessarily because it was Chakotay? This was an issue that the two of them had discussed more than once over the course of the past few months, as their relationship evolved and deepened.  
  
"Kathryn, when the time comes you will make the right choices." Chakotay had finally said to her late one night, when he had found her sitting curled up on her couch gazing out into space.  
  
"How do you know what I'm thinking?" She hadn't turned around when he spoke and pulled away from him when he slid onto the couch behind her.  
  
"Because I know you." He replied. "And you, Kathryn Janeway, have the best instincts I've ever encountered -- be it your ship, your crew, your darkest enemy or your deepest friend, you inevitably come up with the right decision. Don't doubt yourself, Kathryn. And don't doubt this."  
  
He had reached for her then and pulled her gently back into his arms. "What we have here is right. It's taken you...no, it's taken us a long time to get to this point. And we're here because this is where we should be."  
  
"Where we should be? Or where we want to be?" She countered, but didn't withdraw from him.  
  
"When the time comes, you'll know what you have to do, and you will do it." He answered. "And," he shifted her in his arms so that she was able to look up into his eyes "So will I." He bent over rather awkwardly to kiss the tip of her nose. "And right now," he continued, "It's time to come back to bed."  
  
Now she sat, studying the monitor and the blessedly ordinary view of three people walking on a trail in a rapidly falling dusk. She would have been worried about any of her crew after seeing that scene on the ropes, but she had found watching Chakotay in that kind of danger was even harder than she had imagined. If she hailed the Norratii and demanded an immediate end to the mission she would feel better, but that would most certainly ruin their chances to access the Ma'adim Channel. And what would it say about her faith in Chakotay as an officer?  
  
Leaning forward, she touched the rim of the monitor and wished she were on the planet with them. It would have been so much easier than watching and waiting.  
  
  



	6. Act 4

  
**ACT FOUR**  
  
Chakotay pulled the zipper up higher on his sleeping bag and tried to find a more comfortable position. He had never been able to sleep well while sitting upright, and especially not when he was cold. Their "bed" for the night was nothing more than a hollow in a large boulder, and the only way the three of them could fit was to sit, wedged tightly together. Still, it was better than nothing.  
  
After crossing the gorge, they had searched for a suitable campsite for half an hour without success. Vegetation on this side of the rim was sparse, and it wasn't hard to guess why. The evening winds blew with such force that seeds and seedlings were swept away before they could take root. The gusts had continued to increase in intensity until Samantha was literally blown off her feet. They felt lucky to find shelter in the leeward side of an outcropping of rocks. There was enough of an overhang to provide them with some protection from the blasts that swept overhead.  
  
Wildman was wedged between the two men, and apparently, exhaustion overcame discomfort. She had fallen asleep almost immediately with her head on Chakotay's shoulder. On her other side, Ayala was snoring softly. Only Chakotay was still awake.  
  
His enhanced senses were to blame. The screeching of the wind through the rocks and over the land was almost painful and impossible to ignore. But even more disturbing was the pair of eyes he saw staring at them through the darkness. The animal, whatever it was, was crouched beneath another grouping of stones some thirty meters away. Its body was barely visible, but the obsidian eyes gleamed every so often, reflecting the tiny bit of ambient light cast by the stars. He wondered if the animal could see him staring back.  
  
Inside the sleeping bag, Kukulcan shivered. It was an odd sensation, feeling four meters of trembling snake in his lap. "It is cold," the snake complained.  
  
"Yes." Chakotay kept his voice to a whisper to avoid disturbing the others.  
  
"I don't like being cold."  
  
"Me, either."  
  
"Is your home cold?"  
  
Involuntarily, Chakotay looked up. "No. _Voyager's_ never this cold."  
  
"Not your ship. Your home."  
  
"Oh." He smiled at the slip of the tongue. "My planet. Parts of it are. Not where my village was."  
  
The snake sniffed in disdain. Chakotay was sure of it. "Why did you ever leave?"  
  
"It's a long story."  
  
"It is a long night. Longer, if you insist on staring at that _ga'alamat_. It will not disturb you if you do not challenge it. It doesn't know what you are. Your smell is strange to it."  
  
"_Ga'alamat?"_  
  
"We are in the country of the cat now. Tell me."  
  
Knowing that he would not sleep now, Chakotay settled back. "All right," he whispered. "The official name of my homeworld is Dorvan, but the elders called it Trebus..."  
  
*****  
  
Janeway was still at her desk, her long-forgotten cup of coffee pushed to one side. She was totally focused on the scene that was playing out on her view screen. Since she had begun to receive the feed two and a half hours previously, she had not left her Ready Room and had been observing the drama that was taking place on the planet unfold with a mixture of fear and fascination. She had watched as her away team had encountered each obstacle in its path and managed to surmount it. But this current scenario was, as far as she was concerned, the worst yet.  
  
Chakotay, Ayala, and Wildman were huddled together under an outcrop of rocks, barely protected from the elements, and were being watched by what appeared to be a very large feline. Janeway wasn't sure whether they were aware of the big cat's presence, but the animal's intense observation screamed danger to her.  
  
The sound of her Ready Room door chime only distracted her long enough to respond "Come in." When Tuvok entered, she looked up for less than a second before returning her attention to her monitor.  
  
The Vulcan didn't say a word but stood in front of her desk and waited.  
  
"I don't think they see it, do you, Tuvok? Do you think they know it's there?" Janeway finally said. She didn't look up, but she did turn the monitor slightly so that he could see what she was watching.  
  
Tuvok bent over slightly to study the situation.  
  
"I am not certain." His response was measured. "But I would not be at all surprised if the away team are aware the animal is there. "  
  
"I'm considering ending it, Tuvok. Beaming them out and finding some other way around the nebula."  
  
"May I ask why, Captain?"  
  
"Isn't it obvious, Tuvok?" She responded vehemently. "The away team is in danger. Are those three lives worth the time we might save?"  
  
"They have shown great ingenuity and strength so far, Captain. I believe they will continue to do so. Perhaps the feline is similar to the Vulcan _sehlat_," he continued, "which does not attack unless it is challenged or feels itself or its family to be endangered. And I doubt the Commander would consider such action.  
  
"I've never trusted cats."  
  
"Captain, I believe you are expected on the holodeck for this evening's Olympic medal presentations." Tuvok reminded her. "I will remain here and continue to observe the away team. Should there be any change, or if I see the need to remove them from the planet, I will summon you immediately."  
  
Janeway leaned back in her chair and gazed up at her Security Officer.  
  
"Of course, you're right. I should be with the crew."  
  
She turned back to the monitor.  
  
"Tuvok."  
  
"Captain?"  
  
She didn't look up.  
  
"Am I overreacting?" She didn't need to explain what she meant.  
  
"I do not believe so." Tuvok paused for a moment -- and Janeway finally wrested her attention away from the vid-screen. "You have always shown an emotional attachment to your crew and have constantly demonstrated a natural instinct to protect them. Your concerns for this away team are no different from those you have had for others in the past.  
  
"But..."  
  
Perhaps," he continued slowly, "the fact that you are able to observe them this time has added to your apprehension. Actually watching the team function in this type of situation is quite different from reading a report later."  
  
Janeway nodded slowly and turned back briefly watch to the monitor. Nothing had changed. She pushed herself away from her desk and looked up at Tuvok.  
  
"Does it not strike you as interesting that the Norratii have allowed us constant visual access?"  
  
"That has occurred to me, Captain. I believe the away team are not the only ones being tested."  
  
"You are a wise and valued officer and friend, Tuvok. And I thank you."  
  
She stood up and stretched. "I'll be on the holodeck for the medal presentations, but I will retire for the evening after that."  
  
"Yes, Captain."  
  
"Please make certain there is a security officer assigned to maintain a close watch on the away team at all times."  
  
Janeway had left the Ready Room before Tuvok sat down in her recently deserted chair and turned the view-screen back towards him.  
  
*****  
  
The sun was almost directly overhead when Wildman said, "Can we stop for a moment?"  
  
Chakotay halted at once. They had been climbing steadily up into the foothills almost all morning on a trail that would have been challenging on the first day. Now, on the third day, with little sleep and less food, it was like walking in a 2-G chamber. At least the temperature was bearable; the sky had cleared and the sun was shining relentlessly. It would be a hot day in the lower elevations. As he reached for his canteen, Kukulcan slipped down his leg and up the trail.  
  
"Where's he going?" Ayala asked.  
  
"He didn't say." His stomach rumbled, reminding him just how hungry he was. "Let's call it lunch time."  
  
Reaching into the pouch on his waist, he removed the last ration bar and unwrapped it. Then he noticed Wildman studying hers. "Is anything wrong?"  
  
"No. It's just I never knew these things were so delicious." She grinned at them both, then took a large bite.  
  
He chuckled in appreciation. Most of the time, ration bars were no more flavorful than tapioca and only slightly moister than sawdust. The last two days, though, they had tasted sweeter than chocolate. Although he tried to make it last, the bar was consumed all too quickly.  
  
"Well, that's it until we're back on the ship. I wonder what Neelix is planning for dinner?"  
  
"I don't care if it's pickled leola mash," Ayala said. "How much farther do we have to go?"  
  
"According to the map, the end point isn't that far ahead -- only ten or fifteen kilometers." Chakotay looked at the sky again. "We should make it easily."  
  
"Unless we run into another gorge or river full of crocodiles," Wildman said. She wasn't smiling.  
  
"Chakotay."  
  
The Commander turned at the sound Kukulcan calling to him. The snake was not in sight, but the trail dipped a little just ahead, then curved again. "I'll be right back," he said to the others.  
  
He found the snake just past the curve, sitting to the side of the trail in a patch of succulents, rather like prickly pear cacti. "The fruit is good," the snake told him.  
  
Chakotay crouched down and examined the plants more closely. He was surprised to find them here; they were well into chaparral country, and they hadn't passed a succulent in at least two hours. A few still had lemon-sized bulbous buds sprouting on the paddle-like leaves, but some of the bulbs had fallen to the ground. The bulbs had thick skins, but he found one that had burst its seams and sniffed it. A sharp, citrusy aroma tickled his nose, and he smiled. "You're sure this is safe?" he asked the snake.  
  
Kukulcan undulated, giving a remarkable imitation of a shrug.  
  
They didn't have the medical tricorder anymore, so they couldn't check it for toxins. On the other hand, Kukulcan hadn't given them bad advice yet. He pried the bulb apart and dug a bit of pulp out. Its texture was thick and silky, like an avocado, but the taste was more like an orange. He held the sweet bite in his mouth before swallowing it. His stomach received it gratefully, and he gathered up several of the fallen fruit and put them in his pouch. If he weren't dead, sick or hallucinating in half an hour he'd break them out for the others to enjoy.  
  
As he stood, he realized that the trail was about to head downhill again, and he took a few steps to get a better view. A lush green valley spread below, but it was not the natural beauty that made him hold his breath: it was the pyramid that sat squarely in the center of the valley. Although small, probably no more than twenty meters high, its similarity to the pyramids of Central America was unmistakable. The stones were shiny with lichen and covered with vegetation, but the sharp, terrace-like angles were still evident. One of the four sides had what looked like an incline, but was probably a stairway. At the top was a flat, table-like protrusion. The whole structure seemed to be surrounded by a fence that enclosed what once might have been a lawn or garden.  
  
He grabbed the PADD and checked the map. Although he didn't see a cat on top, the pyramid was almost certainly the end point of the trail. It was only about ten kilometers distant as the crow flies, but the path down to the valley twisted and turned. They would have to push to make it before sunset. So much for making it easily.  
  
Turning, he went back to get Ayala, Wildman, and Kukulcan.  
  
*****  
  
Four hours later, Chakotay stopped short, and the others followed suit. They had reached the fence that surrounded the pyramid. He began to walk beside it, studying it. It was of ornamental metal and looked out of place to him, a European addition to the otherwise Mayan architecture. The other odd thing about the fence was that it appeared to be seamless. There was no discernible gate.  
  
"Look," Ayala said. "There's the front door."  
  
There was indeed an entryway into the pyramid, an opening framed by elaborate wood carvings. Chakotay studied the designs on the posts, noting at least one serpent and, at each corner, a _ga'alamat._  
  
Inside the doorway, obscured by shadows, he could just make out the silhouette. "There," he said. "Do you see it?"  
  
"Inside? No, it's too dark." Ayala squinted, trying to see.  
  
"There's a statue just inside. It looks like this." Chakotay pulled out the PADD with the map and showed them the icon of the cat on a pedestal that signaled the end of the trail. "All we have to do is go in, and we're finished."  
  
Even knowing they were so close to their goal, he didn't move. Something about the building and the grounds made him reluctant to go forward. He realized that the others seemed to share his hesitation.  
  
"What is this place?" Ayala asked after a moment, his voice low.  
  
Wildman answered in hushed tones. "It must be a temple of some kind. Don't you feel it?"  
  
"Yeah." Ayala looked uncomfortable, as he often did when confronted with intangibles that he could not manage with his own hands. "I felt like this at Gettysburg. The Wheat Field."  
  
"And Auschwitz," she whispered.  
  
"And Dorvan." _This ground is sacred,_ Chakotay thought, _consecrated with lost lives and spilt blood._ The spirits of the dead were nearby, watching them. The air was heavy with their presence.  
  
Kukulcan unwound himself from Chakotay's waist and slipped down his leg. "There was a great battle here," he said as he crossed the ground heading for the fence. "Many died. Those who lived, left. I haven't been here for a long time."  
  
"Where's he going?" Ayala asked.  
  
"Inside, I guess, "Chakotay said. "He says there was a battle fought here."  
  
Mike frowned. "A memorial? They sent us to a war memorial?"  
  
Chakotay couldn't blame him for being edgy, considering their last experience with such a site. "The Norratii may not realize what this is. Or perhaps they want to see if we figure it out." He watched the snake begin to twist up one of the fence posts. "Kukulcan, what are you doing?"  
  
"Letting you in." At the top of the fence, the snake bumped his head against a filial, which tipped over easily. There was a creaking sound, and then the post seemed to crack in an even vertical line. Suddenly, a gate was plainly visible.  
  
Chakotay put his hand on the post but then hesitated. He heard something, or at least he thought he heard something. Was it just his imagination?  
  
"What's wrong?" Ayala asked.  
  
"Do you hear it?" Chakotay asked.  
  
Mike listened for a moment, then shook his head. "No. Remember, old man, you've still got that snake-enhanced hearing. What is it?"  
  
"Breathing. It sounds like someone breathing."  
  
Ayala's hand reached for the knife at his waist, but before he removed it, Chakotay shook his head. "It could just be the wind."  
  
"Commander, the sun is setting," Samantha said with some urgency. "We're almost out of time. We need to go in."  
  
Chakotay nodded slowly. "You're right. Let's stay on the path and try not to disturb anything." Carefully, he opened the gate and stepped inside the garden area.  
  
His foot had barely touched the gravel when the snarling animal jumped out of the shadows of the doorway. Black and sleek, but bigger than any panther Chakotay had ever seen, it faced him with teeth bared and glowing jade eyes. Chakotay froze.  
  
"Interesting," Kukulcan said. "I did not know she was still here."  
  
"Chakotay," Ayala said softly. "Reach behind. Take the knife."  
  
The big cat tensed and snarled again. Her eyes seemed to glow with fury. Chakotay slowly reached back with his right hand until he felt the hilt of the knife. Grasping it, he slowly brought that hand to his side. "Easy," he said in soothing tones to the animal. "It's all right."  
  
He knew that if he took even one step forward, the panther would jump. He would have no choice but to defend himself and try to kill it. More blood, his and the cat's, would be shed; and he realized he couldn't do it. He simply could not add more death to this place.  
  
He backed up slowly, eased through a small opening in the gate and closed it. The panther continued to watch him warily. Turning to the snake, Chakotay said, "What is that?"  
  
"She is the Guardian of the Gate. It is her duty to protect the entrance." The snake's tongue flicked out. "She must be a descendant of the first Guardian."  
  
"You might have mentioned her before." He looked again at the panther, now pacing restlessly but keeping her eyes trained on him. "All right. She's the Guardian. There must be a way to convince her we mean no harm."  
  
"Only the Watchman could control her, and the Watchman is gone."  
  
Chakotay frowned, and then saw that the others were waiting for him to explain. "He says we won't be able to get past her. We have to find another way inside."  
  
"There is none," Kukulcan said. "If you must enter, this is the only door."  
  
"Don't tell me," Ayala said. "He just told you that this is the only way."  
  
"Yes. Let's check anyway."  
  
It took nearly five full minutes to walk around the base of the pyramid. It was entirely enclosed by the fence, and there was no sign of another doorway. They stood at the gate, looking at the panther. She paced restlessly back and forth, never letting her gaze leave them. In fact, she seemed to be challenging them. Chakotay suppressed a rush of anger. Was it possible that they had come all this way, only to be stopped by a single animal?  
  
"Maybe we can set up a diversion," Ayala said. "I'll go first and get her attention, while the two of you run inside."  
  
Chakotay considered for a moment. Ayala wasn't fast enough to outrun the creature, and he knew it. He was offering to take the attack and let the others go in, apparently willing to bet that he could win the contest. Slowly, Chakotay shook his head. "No. It's not worth the risk. And there's been enough blood shed here already."  
  
"But we won't make it." Ayala shook his head with frustration. "Chakotay, we've been chased by killer bees and crocodiles, attacked by poisonous plants, we've run, jumped, swung, slipped and darn near walked a tightrope, and now we're just going to quit? Because of a _cat? _We've got to give it a try. It would be self-defense."  
  
Chakotay blinked. In all the years he'd known Ayala, he doubted he had heard the man string together so many sentences at one time. Samantha looked equally surprised, but she laid a hand on his arm. "No, Mike," she said. "I know how you feel, but we can't do it."  
  
"It's a lose-lose scenario." Chakotay ran a hand through his hair, suddenly feeling discouraged. He was tired and sore and he was beginning to itch again. "If we kill the panther, we break the rules. If we don't make it to the finish, we break the rules. The second one is a whole lot easier for me to live with."  
  
For a moment, Ayala stared at him, his dark eyes stormy with anger. Then he exhaled slowly and nodded. "You're right. Sorry." He dropped heavily to the ground and sat cross-legged, rubbing his swollen ear.  
  
Wildman sat beside him, hanging her head momentarily, then tossing it back. "We gave it a good run, though. Do we call and tell them we're through?"  
  
Chakotay hesitated. As certain as he was that he was doing the right thing, he was disappointed that they hadn't reached the official finish point. He didn't like feeling that way. He couldn't shake the notion that there must be some way to get in; otherwise, what was the point? If they had enough time, they might be able to find an alternative. He raised a hand to shield his eyes and looked skyward. More than half the sun was below the horizon and sinking quickly.  
  
Then he heard Kukulcan say, "That night the Deer couldn't sleep."  
  
Suddenly confused, Chakotay looked up. The snake's words were familiar, yet he couldn't quite place them...wait. Yes, he could -- the words were from a cautionary tale that had been told to children in his tribe for generations. It was a story of two natural enemies, a deer and a large cat, who managed to live together for a short time, until they were each so frightened of the other that they turned and ran in opposite directions.  
  
He looked at Kukulcan closely. "Do you think...?"  
  
"She will recognize the mark you bear. The Watchman bore it also."  
  
Taking a deep breath, he turned back to the pacing cat and said, "You two stay here."  
  
"What?" Ayala asked. "Where are you going?"  
  
Chakotay swung the gate open. "I'm going to try something. But I mean it, you two stay here, no matter what."  
  
"You can't..." Ayala and Wildman said together, but it was too late. He had stepped into the compound and shut the gate behind him.  
  
The big cat crouched defensively, her eyes fixed on him. Her mouth opened wide, showing an impressive set of white, sharp teeth, and she howled.  
  
Tiny hairs on his neck prickled, but he did not move. "Look at me," he said as evenly as he could manage. "I am not your enemy."  
  
Perhaps she understood; perhaps not. The cat's gold eyes darkened to green and she bared her teeth again. This time her yowl was not full-throated, but it ran up the scale and down again in a clear signal of distress.  
  
He began to wonder if he had made a mistake.  
  
"Her memory is not good," Kukulcan said. "She is confused."  
  
Chakotay wanted to turn and run, but he knew that would be fatal. "You could have told me that before."  
  
"I was not certain. She is a difficult creature."  
  
"Any suggestions?"  
  
"The Watchman raised his right hand to direct her."  
  
Ayala and Wildman each gripped the bars of the fence. "Commander," Wildman said, "please, come out of there."  
  
Slowly, he began to raise his right hand. The cat snarled, but did not move. Its tail had bottled out and expanded, and twitched nervously.  
  
"I really think you should get out of there," Ayala said.  
  
The last segment of the sun finally dipped below the horizon. The cat blinked, tensed -- and leaped, its front paws extended with claws bared.  
  
_No, _Chakotay thought wildly, _you're supposed to run the other way._  
  
"Goodbye," he heard Kukulcan say. "Tell Ayala he would have been tasty." Then, at the same instant he expected to feel the sharp claws of the cat rip into his chest, he felt the tingle of an alien transporter.  
  
*****  
  
Chakotay and the others materialized on the transporter deck of the Norratii ship. One of the Envoys stood beside the technician, both veiled, so that it was impossible to make a positive identification. "Good timing," he told him.  
  
"Our compliments," the Envoy said. "You did well. As did your Captain. We will be pleased to grant you passage through the Ma'adim Channel."  
  
"What?" Chakotay asked, both disoriented and relieved to realize that he had not been mauled by the panther. "The Captain? But what test did she...?"  
  
Before Chakotay could finish, the Envoy lifted a hand and signaled the technician, and once again, he felt the tell-tale tingle of the transporter.  
  
*  



	7. Epilogue

*  
  
**Epilogue**  
  
Chakotay sipped the last of the riboletta and set the spoon down. "That was excellent," he said. "A shower, clean clothes, normal vision and hearing, no more itching and a good meal. I'm a new man."  
  
"A tired man," Kathryn said, looking at him thoughtfully. "That was more than I expected it to be."  
  
"Me, too." He leaned back in the chair. "But in some ways, it was good for me."  
  
Her eyebrows arched upward in silent surprise, and he went on, "Well, for one thing, it was exhilarating to have my senses enhanced. I'm going to miss that, I think. And that planet grabbed my curiosity. Obviously, there's a link between it and Earth and the planet we visited a few years ago. If the Norratii will permit it, I'd like to go back and study it until we're ready to go."  
  
"We can ask." She shook her head. "Although I'm not sure you should be talking to snakes on a regular basis."  
  
"I doubt I'll find Kukulcan again. Somehow, that had the feel of a once-in-a-lifetime experience."  
  
"The Norratii Ambassador was impressed with you, Chakotay. He told me that only a handful of others have completed the worthiness test. You and your team did well."  
  
"They did, didn't they?" He paused for a moment, remembering a few of the rigors they had endured. "It's ironic, isn't it," he said. "The three of us were trying to avoid the _Voyager _Olympics, and we ended up playing in our very own games."  
  
"I'm not sure I'd call that playing." Janeway responded.  
  
He smiled ruefully. "I have to admit, it's been a long time since I was tested physically to that extent. Good to know I've still got it in me. And believe it or not, it gave me the chance to think about a few things."  
  
"Me, too." She smiled. "You go first."  
  
"All right. For the first time, I really thought about what it will mean to be home again. If I don't go to prison, that is."  
  
"Chakotay --"  
  
He reached across the table and covered her hand with his. "It's a possibility, and we have to acknowledge it. But if I don't have to serve time, I've figured out one thing. I want to visit Dorvan again, see my sister and the other survivors.”  
  
The sentence sounded unfinished, even to him, so he was not surprised when, after a moment, she prodded gently. "And...?"  
  
"And," he said slowly, "I need to see if I can live there again. I'm not certain. So much has changed." He thought about the last time he was there, after the Cardassian attack. The planet had been reduced to little more than barren rock. It would take years, decades perhaps, for man and nature to restore the lush jungles. Much of the native plant and animal life was probably lost forever. It would never again be the home he remembered.  
  
She turned her hand over in his and squeezed it. "If not, what do you want to do? Stay in Starfleet?"  
  
"That depends."  
  
"On what?"  
  
"On what you decide to do." He smiled, expecting one of hers in return. Instead, she looked troubled. "What's wrong?"  
  
"The last twenty-four hours have been among the hardest in my career," she admitted. "I saw you crossing that gorge, and when you nearly fell, it took every ounce of control I have not to just beam you up then and there."  
  
"But you didn't," he said softly, "and it turned out all right."  
  
"This time." She looked at him steadily. "I don't know if I can get used to feeling that way."  
  
"You don't have to get used to it. You just have to learn how to live with it." He intended to say more, but a yawn overtook him. "I'm sorry."  
  
"Don't be. You're tired, and we don't have to decide this tonight." Letting go of his hand, she stood. "Go on to bed. I'll clean up here."  
  
He yawned again, then stood. "Join me later? I missed you the last couple of nights."  
  
Her face softened, and she touched his arm. "I missed you, too. I'll be along."  
  
After kissing her softly, he went into the bedroom and lay down. The sheet was cool, the mattress firm and the pillow soft -- all of which were a stark contrast to the last two nights of sleeping on the ground with a snake. It felt almost decadent, and he decided he liked it. As he drifted into sleep, his last coherent thought was of Kukulcan and what he had said of his mate.  
  
Sometime later, he struggled to wake as Kathryn slid into bed beside him, but she shushed him and simply spooned in beside him. Without opening his eyes, he put an arm around her and held her close. _The problems ahead will wait,_ he thought groggily_. For now, we are as one._  
  
Tomorrow, he would have to ask her how the Olympics turned out.  


Fin

**Author's Note:**

> **Up Next: ** "Hero for the Times" by Julie. Voyager gets an escort through an inhabited sector of space, the Doctor premieres his holonovel, and the carpets are cleaned.


End file.
